Nightmare's End
by Luna525
Summary: Three years after the war ended, Draco still has nightmares about that night in the Manor. He can't seem to shake the image of Hermione Granger being tortured. He decides the only way to stop the dreams is to see for himself that she is alright, and perhaps if he is lucky find a way to make it up to her. Dramione
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hello everyone! This is the first fan fic I am posting, so bare with me as I try to figure out the logistics of actually posting it correctly. Oh, and of course I don't own anything in the Harry Potter world, as lovely as that would be. Anyway, enjoy!**

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Chapter 1: The decision

"Crucio!"

Hermione felt her entire body course with pain as a scream was ripped from her lungs. She lay gasping as it stopped, but the pain was quickly replaced with fear as the wild eyed woman approached. The madwoman grasped her arm and pointed her wand. Hermione screamed again as a word was etched into her flesh.

"No!" she screamed, bolting upright in her bed. In a panic she took stock of her surroundings. Bookshelf, lamp, cozy maroon armchair. She was home in her flat. Taking a breath she willed herself to loosen her clutch on the blanket.

"Get a grip Hermione," she told herself. It had been three years since the war had ended, but the dreams still came every night, always about that horrible night in Malfoy Manor. Some nights she only saw Bellatrix's crazed eyes, some nights it happened exactly how it had that night, and some dreadful nights brought new terrors that hadn't actually occurred. However no matter how detailed the rest of the dream was, they all ended the same way. Subconsciously she gripped her arm, her mind still thinking of her flesh being carved with that horrible word. Mudblood. She tried not to be ashamed of the word emblazoned into her flesh, telling herself that she should be proud she survived. Not all were as lucky as she in that respect. Yet she still found it hard to look at word and nearly always covered it if possible. The memory was still so fresh, she preferred not to relive it if she could avoid it. She did enough of that at night.

Hermione shook herself slightly, trying to will the dream to loosen its grip on her. Little did she know miles away someone else was trying to shake the very same dream.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was pacing in his room. Three years, he thought. It had been three full years since he had watched in horror as his aunt tortured his classmate. Or was it four? He had lost all sense of time now that his days mainly consisted of pacing his home. He no longer stayed in the Manor. He hadn't gone back after the war. Whatever happy memories might have lived there were blown to bits that night. He shivered at the thought of even stepping foot in there again. And what reason did he have anyway? His mother had been killed in the final battle, and his father was rotting away in Azkaban. He was just thankful that his family owned this small, well in Malfoy terms anyway, house in the countryside near London. He had hoped to escape the memories there, but it hadn't worked. Nearly every night for three years, or was it four, he dreamt of that awful night.

His pacing grew more frenzied as the memories came flooding back. He had been living in hell for quite some time already when she was flung on the ground. Up until then he had been doing as he was told, fearing for his life and for his family's. He had already screwed up too big to screw up again. Then he saw her. He had not been able to move, fearing his insane aunt too much to do anything useful. And then those brown eyes caught his, and Merlin help him, in that moment he had wished he had the Gryffindor bravery.

He hadn't seen her since, not really. He had seen her across the battlefield in passing, he had seen her picture in the Daily Prophet, but had not really seen her properly since that night. The night that had changed him forever. A part of him had always questioned the prejudices that had been handed down to him, but he was a Malfoy and Malfoy's were expected to behave in a certain way. So in order to convince himself as well as his father that he was really a true Malfoy, he was a little prat to everyone. It was expected of him to uphold certain standards, and the few times he did slip he paid for it dearly. So he never slipped. He just put on the cool mask of indifference he was trained to use. But that night, the few fragile threads holding him to those beliefs shattered. This was a girl who had intelligence and magical ability far above many of the Purebloods that he knew, and she was being tortured because her parents had the wrong kind of blood. In a sudden flash of clarity he saw all the Pureblood superiority talk was rubbish. He had been fighting an inner battle with himself for years, trying to hold on to at least some of those beliefs so he could still hold some respect for his father, but that night it vanished. His goal from that point on had been to get his mother out of that war alive. In order to do that, it meant keeping his head down. He certainly had no intention of helping in any way, but he wasn't exactly sure he could outright oppose with without getting his mother killed either. But Merlin he wished he could stop his aunt that night. He knew any reaction from him would have meant her instant death, but it didn't stop him from feeling like the coward responsible for her pain. He wondered for the millionth time if she was alright. He wondered if she had moved on from the happenings in the Manor, or if she was as trapped there as he was.

In that moment, he made up his mind. He would do the thing he had toyed with for at least a year, the thing he swore he would never do, as much for his sake as hers. After three years of nightmares it was the only thing he could think of that could possibly make them stop. He would find Hermione Granger and see that she was ok with his own eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you enjoy! Oh, and I still don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe!**

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Chapter 2: The meeting

Hermione looked into the mirror and sighed. It was a sticky hot day in early July and her hair was such a bushy mess that even Aaragog would have run away screaming. Despite her frustration, she giggled a little at the thought and made a mental not to use that comparison next time she saw Ron. After a few more failed attempts to tame it she settled on a messy bun. With not much hope of doing much else, that would have to do.

"Morning Crookshanks," she crooned at her pet, scratching him lightly behind the ear. "Sorry, no time for our morning read today. I'm filling in for Oliver at the bookstore," she said, spreading marmalade on her toast. The orange cat gave her a disdainful look and stalked off into the bedroom. Hermione watched him go and shrugged to herself. He'll get over it.

"Sorry!" She called again as she hurriedly threw on her shoes and crammed the last bit of toast in her mouth.

Outside she breathed in some much needed fresh air. She did need to fill in for her coworker, but more than that she needed to be out of her flat. Lately it had seemed suffocating. It was as if her nightmares were permeating out of the night and into every nook and cranny of her living space. At least outside she could breathe. And working at Flourish and Blotts allowed her to escape into the world of knowledge that had always been her safe haven. Hermione knew that she didn't want to work there forever, but for the moment it provided her with the comfort and escape she needed to figure out her next step.

After the war there had been so many people in need of medical assistance that she thought her time was best spent at St. Mungo's. Before she had left with Harry and Ron to hunt horcruxes, she had studied up on healing spells and became fairly proficient. So it seemed only natural to offer her services. They were so in need of healers that anyone showing an aptitude was given an abbreviated training course and immediately joined the ranks. After a few years, however, the need dwindled. People were recovering and moving on or being transferred to the long care wards. With most of the Death Eaters rounded up, fewer and fewer new patients were coming in. Many of the more temporary healers were being let go, and only the ones that were highly skilled were kept on. Hermione was offered a full time position, but she politely declined. Her heart was not in it. The work was rewarding enough, she had just never fancied a career in medicine. And if she were honest, she hoped leaving there would get rid of the nightmares. Inside St. Mungo's were constant reminders of the horrors she lived through. She was hopeful taking a step back from that would at least lessen her sleep troubles.

It hadn't. She had been working at Flourish and Blotts for six months now and they hadn't eased a bit. During quiet times at the store she had even researched different methods known to eliminate nightmares to no avail. At least she had time there to ponder her next career step.

A few minutes later she was letting herself in the front door of her favorite store. Hermione smiled brightly, gazing around at all the books. Even after a restless night, this place always made her happy.

* * *

Draco stood nervously in an alley near the Leaky Cauldron. He was crazy. He knew it. Oh who was he kidding, he had officially stepped off the crazy train and gone completely and totally mental. What was he thinking? Did he really expect the girl he bullied through school and watched get tortured walk up to him with a smile and say "Lovely to see you again Draco. I hope we can put your murderous aunt behind us and be friends. Care to catch a drink?"

He should leave. Just give up on this hairbrained idea and flee back to the solitude of the country house he now called home. So what if he had nightmares? He deserved them. He could live with the lack of sleep, he should just leave. He would be fine. He _was_ fine. But was she?

The question echoed through his head for the millionth time. When he first decided to find her, he thought perhaps just seeing her would be enough. Possibly just seeing her across the street as she left her job would put his mind at ease. But he was startled to say the least when he tracked her down and found that she was working at Flourish and Blotts. What was the brightest witch in his class doing working at a bookstore? He expected her to find her working in the ministry, or perhaps and important research position. Hell, even Hogwarts, but no the bookstore. It made him uneasy. It gave him the creeping sensation that she may well be as trapped in the Manor as he was. He just needed one interaction to see that she was fine.

Draco began to pace, trying to shake off his nerves. It was almost 5:00. In a few minutes Hermione Granger would walk out into the street, and he needed to make sure he wasn't a complete numbing idiot when she did. Squaring his shoulders he began slowly strolling down the street.

Running his hands through his shock of blonde hair, he tried in vain to keep his mind blank. He may as well have tried to spontaneously sprout gurdyroot from his ears, he would have had as much luck. Part of him had no idea why he was so nervous. He supposed part of it had to do with the lack of social interaction he had had over the last couple of years. He deliberately went out as little as possible, and it certainly wasn't like he had people knocking down his door to see if he was alright. His family was gone, and all of his so called friends had scattered after the war. Ex-Death Eaters were not exactly welcomed with open arms.

As for the other reasons for his nervousness, well he wasn't sure if he could exactly pinpoint it. Or if he wanted to. There was guilt there he knew. But what else? Could it possibly be-

"Malfoy?"

Draco stopped in his tracks. He hadn't even noticed he had passed by the bookstore. Slowly he turned, and there in front of him stood the very person he had been dreaming about for years in the flesh.

"Granger," he replied coolly, silently thanking his father for the first time in years for teaching him to keep stoic at all times.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione blurted out.

"Correct me if I'm, wrong Granger, but I believe this is a shopping district," he said, giving her a small smirk.

"Yes of course," she said a bit flustered. "I just meant-it's just that, well, no one has seen you since the war. I assumed you had fled, or-" She stopped, suddenly looking down.

He quirked and eyebrow. "Or what?"

She flushed slightly before looking up. "Or killed."

Draco blinked, slightly taken aback. "Wishful thinking Granger?" She said nothing, but he noticed her hand reach up to rub her forearm. "Well I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am very much alive."

Hermione started straight ahead and nodded, still absently rubbing her arm.

"I'm not keeping you am I?" He drawled.

That seemed to break her out of her trance. "What?" She asked confused.

He motioned to Flourish and Blotts. "Were you going in?"

"Oh." She flushed slightly. "No. I just finished my shift."

His eyebrows shot up. Feigning ignorance he said "You work here?"

Her brown eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" He didn't even manage to give and answer before she continued. "Yes I work here. Quite enjoy it actually. Is that a problem for you?"

Once again Draco was somewhat taken aback. "No. I just expected you to be doing something more...intellectual."

A flash of anger showed in her eyes as she took a step towards him. "For your information _Malfoy_ ," she said his name as though it was an insult. And to her it probably was. "I started working here after leaving St. Mungo's. Is that intellectual enough for you? But I decided I needed a break from healing the people your little colleagues put in there."

Once again grateful for his ability to remain his composure, he reigned in the look of hurt and shame quickly. "Well, that does seem to fit better with your hero complex."

With a look that would have frightened Voldemort himself Hermione took one step closer. It took all his will power to stand his ground.

"My hero complex helped stop the war. Now why don't you go play dress up with your mask wearing friends and stop bothering me."

Draco nodded. "Friends," he said softly. He gave her a sad smile. "You know, for such a clever witch you can be awfully thick." He slowly turned and walked away, not seeing the suddenly disheartened girl behind him.

He shook his head. Well that went well.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Guilt

Hermione felt bad. She kept telling herself she shouldn't, but she did.

It was Malfoy, why should she feel bad? He had made her life miserable every chance he got for years. How many times had he made her drop her things? How many attempts to get them expelled? How many times had he called her a Mudblood?

But had he done any of those things today?

Hermione groaned. He hadn't. In fact he had really been nothing but civil. She replayed the interaction in her mind again and again. He greeted her, answered her questions, and in a backhanded Malfoy prickish kind of way he had even given her a compliment. He expected her to be doing something intellectual, essentially telling her she was smart. Hell, in Malfoy terms that was practically a marriage proposal. He hadn't sneered and made fun of her choices as he would have before. She analyzed that statement every which way to catch even a hint of malice, but there was none to be found. And she attacked him anyway. She could not shake the look on his face when she mentioned his "friends." It was real honest to goodness hurt, with a hint of something else. Shame? It almost looked that way. Sweet Merlin she felt bad.

She let out another groan, flinging herself on the loveseat. What was she thinking? From everything that Harry had said, and what she had witnessed with her own eyes, Malfoy was not a willing Death Eater. Prejudiced prat, sure, but not a Death Eater. According to what Harry had told her Voldemort threatened to kill his entire family unless he obeyed. And from what she had read in the Daily Prophet his mother was now dead because she had helped the light and his father was in Azkaban. So his worst fear had essentially come true.

Hermione groaned again, flinging her face a bit too aggressively into the throw pillow. She felt absolutely horrid. She had just attacked a man who had lost everything because he thought she was too smart to work at a bookstore.

Malfoy likely didn't even care, she told herself. He probably barely noticed the venom spewing from her mouth. That kind of talk was probably considered polite dinner conversation at the Manor.

The Manor.

Pushing aside the involuntary shudder that came with that thought, she sprang up and began pacing. Of all the times for her friends to be gone, she thought bitterly. She could really use them reminding her of what a smarmy bastard that little blonde ferret really was. But Harry and Ron were gone for at least a month doing some Auror training, and Ginny had flexed her new rights as an Auror's wife and gone with. They were not allowed to contact anyone while on base, so she was left along to wallow in guilt.

Hermione sat down again, cursing her overdeveloped sense of compassion. Shaking herself, she resolutely decided that he had it coming from years of torment.

And then she pictured his face full of shame and sadness.

Groaning yet again. She flopped backwards into the loveseat.

Yep, she felt bad.

* * *

Draco burst through the door of his home and promptly dropped into the nearest armchair. He wasn't exactly expecting a warm embrace, but a little less hate would have been nice. Still, it could have been worse. She could have punched him again. Really, he deserved that and more.

As much as he did deserve it, he was never fully immune to it. There was a reason he rarely left the country house. For a couple weeks he didn't, still recovering from his own emotional and physical wounds. Then he decided that maybe he should venture out, maybe swallow some pride and attempt to make a few things right. He knew that there was a lot of rebuilding going on in and around Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. So off he went despite his nerves. Both places had made it very clear very quickly that he was not welcome. He had tried to endure it and keep helping at first, but his mere presence usually caused such an uproar that it did more damage than good. On the rare occasion that people were silent upon his arrival, they were so distrustful of him that he never got to do much of anyway. All he seemed to do was cause more pain for people, which is the exact opposite of what he was trying to accomplish. So after a few attempts, he just stopped trying. And with Mother dead and his scum of the earth father locked away, he just kept to himself. He never really had friends, just Lucious approved cronies, and they had all either fled or been killed. So he was left to his own devices, with only his nightmares to keep him company.

The worst thing about his encounter with the bushy haired witch was that it left him feeling almost worse than he had before. Not from the insults, not that it was the most pleasant experience of his life, but he was used to that. It was because the little window of information he actually obtained didn't seem all that great. He had very much been aware of the haunted expression on her face as she stroked the word hidden beneath the sleeve of her robe. She was also rather defensive about her job at Flourish and Blotts, although he supposed that could also be explained away by the fact that it was brought up by her least favorite person.

At that thought he sighed. It was too bad really. Hermione was the only person in school that was clever enough to keep up with him in a battle of wits. And despite his best efforts, she always beat him in lessons. He had had to learn to settle for a close second. If he hadn't followed along with his father's ideals and tried to emulate that detestable man and make him proud, they might have actually been friends. Maybe more.

Well, he thought shaking his head, I guess better late than never to pull my head out of my arse.

His mind began to drift once again to the cursed wound on her arm. It was supposed to be incurable, carved there for life. Aside from the fact that it was very dark mafic, he really knew nothing about the spell. He had, however, heard of advancements in potions for certain disfigurements caused by dark magic. One benefit of war, he supposed, was a redoubled effort to cure some of the atrocities left behind. Perhaps he should do a little research of his own. Potions had always been his best subject.

Draco stood up, stretching. He wandered into the library, telling himself he could really use some sort of distraction anyway. He had already read most of the book in there, but he was hoping there were a few more scholarly titles he had missed.

After searching the entire collection twice, which didn't take long as the books here were rather limited and mostly for show, he realized that nothing here would do him much good. Briefly he contemplated going to the extensive library in the Manor. Shuddering involuntarily, he decided to save that as a last resort.

A smile crossed his handsome face. It looks like another trip to the bookstore was in order.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks everyone for reading! And thanks for the great reviews! It always makes my day!**

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Chapter 4: Admissions and Dreams

It had been three days since Hermione had her run in with Draco. Try as she might she still couldn't shake her guilt, no matter how many times she reminded herself of all his previous vile insults. She knew she had only seen him for a brief moment, but she got the very distinct impression that something in him had changed. And although fleeting, the look on his face still haunted her. Draco Malfoy had actually been hurt by something a Mudblood had said, _and_ not fired any venom back in her face. That was a first. As a mediwitch she knew all too well that war changed people. Perhaps that little ferret was not exactly who she assumed him to be.

Hermione sighed, shaking away guilty thoughts. She still had an hour left of her shift, but maybe when she was done she would owl him an apology. That should get rid of her nagging guilt. And probably shock the socks off Malfoy in the process, she giggled to herself.

Her inner monologue was broken by the tinkling of the bells on the front door. Good, she thought. It had been a rather slow day at Flourish and Blotts. No one had been in for the last hour, so at least now she would have a small distraction.

Hermione made her way out of the storage room she had been organizing and out into the front room. There, standing in all his pompous glory, was the very blonde wizard she had been thinking about.

"Malfoy!" She exclaimed, perhaps a bit loudly. His head snapped up from the book he had been perusing. His grey eyes registered surprise, then upon seeing her changed to apprehension. Hermione sighed. "Listen, I'm glad you're here."

With that the wizard's jaw dropped comically. "Come again?" He asked in utter disbelief.

Hermione smirked slightly and continued. "It's just," looking down at her feet and gathering all of her Gryffindor courage she spit out, "I wanted to apologize." She chanced a glance at him. It was all she could do not to laugh at his still gaping expression. "I mean, you really said nothing wrong. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You really didn't really say anything insulting, but I suppose I expected you to. I really shouldn't have gone all-" she paused, trying to find the right words.

"Malfoy on me?" He said slyly, his smirk finally returning.

Hermione burst out laughing. "I wasn't that bad, was I?"

"You weren't exactly a ray of sunshine," he chuckled lightly.

The bushy haired witch snorted. "Thanks," she said with sarcasm. He chuckled again and Hermione couldn't help but notice he was actually rather handsome without the scowl he always wore at Hogwarts.

"Don't worry about it Granger. I've heard worse. But I uh-" his grey eyes fell to the floor. Looking a bit sheepish he cleared his throat and continued. "I appreciate it."

Now it was Hermione's turn to gape. What just happened? Did Malfoy just show humility? Surely that wasn't possible. She had half a mind to check him for the Imperious curse. Instead she nodded in shock. They stood there for a moment in silence, not looking at each other.

"Is there something I could help you find?" She said in a forced cheery tone, attempting to alleviate the awkwardness.

"I was just looking to replace some of my favorite potions books," Draco said, regaining his confidence. "I heard Orville Wiggins had some research recently published as well."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Yes he did! It looks fascinating! I actually can't wait to get my hands on a copy, but it's not due in the store for a few days. I can owl you when it's in if you want."

He nodded in response. "Thanks. I'll just-uh-browse"

She nodded, keeping a smile plastered to her face until he was safely out of sight, then let out the breath she had been holding. Sweet Merlin that was awkward.

Hermione busied herself behind the register. Soon would be shift change and she was really hoping Malfoy would come to the counter while she was still there. The curiosity of what he would buy was killing her. Luckily she didn't have to wait long.

"Were you really that careless with your school books?" She teased, noticing many of the titles were on the Hogwarts syllabus.

Malfoy shrugged. "They're probably still in my old bedroom."

Hermione furrowed her brow, confused. "Uh...then why don't you use those? Not that I don't enjoy your company, " she added sarcastically.

"I haven't been back there since..." He trailed off. Hermione was startled when she noticed his worried gaze flit to her arm. He shook his head slightly and went on. "Not a lot of happy memories there as of late. Quite a few I wish I could erase to be honest," he finished softly.

Hermione was shocked. No, shocked was not a strong enough word. Completely and totally astounded was more like it. Not only did those words just come out of his mouth, but they were said to _he_ r. He would have rather dropped dead on the spot that say anything quite so revealing to her before. She was...touched.

"Malfoy," she said gently. "I-"

They were interrupted by the belling indicating someone else's arrival.

"Thanks Granger." Draco tossed the correct amount of galleons on the counter. "See you around." And with that he quickly left.

"What was _he_ doing here?" Her coworker, Oliver, said harshly walking over to her.

"Buying books, obviously," she countered.

"He wasn't bothering you was he?"

"No, he wasn't," she said firmly.

"Good thing I got here in time then. I'm sure he had something up his sleeve. I know the Wizengamot cleared him, but come off it. With his father? He had to have paid somebody off for that. The Daily Prophet had just said 'someone spoke on his behalf.' Hope they checked the poor bloke for the Imperius-"

"Oliver!" Hermione chastised. "That's enough! He has been cleared by the Ministry, so that should be enough for you. So kindly keep that in mind before you open your mouth."

Oliver shrugged. "Fine. But if he shows up here again, you don't have to let him in. Or better yet call me and I'll sort him out."

Hermione squinted her eyes and glared at the black haired man in front of her. "I think I'll go now before I hex you into next week." With that she turned on a dime and stormed out of the store, leaving a very flustered man in her wake.

Since when, she thought, did I start sticking up for Malfoy?

* * *

Draco slowly opened his eyes. It was still dark. He noticed he was much more comfortable that he had been in recent mornings and congratulated himself on making it to his bed instead of conking out in his favorite chair in his library. Thinking he may as well get up, he pushed his blanket aside.

Something was wrong.

Quickly he stood up, his eyes surveying his surroundings. He was not in the country home. Everything around him was very plush and ornate, a stark contrast to the simplicity of his new home. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest as the realization hit him. He was in Malfoy Manor.

Draco's head whipped around as an earth shattering scream filled the room.

"No," he whispered in panic. "No!" He yelled running out the door. He dashed down the hall and turned a corner only to be met by a large iron door. Desperately he pushed his weight into it, willing it to open as the screams of torment continued. Nothing happened. Giving up he dove down the hall in the opposite direction. He ran for what seemed an eternity, each corner giving way to another dark corridor. The screams were never ending and excruciating. He frantically searched the halls for a door, but they continued into an endless labyrinth of darkness.

"This can't be happening," he muttered, pushing himself to run until his lungs felt about to burst.

He stopped in his tracks as a maniacal cackling filled the air. The voice of Bellatrix Lestrange rang out. "And now you die Mudblood!"

And agonizing shriek of utter misery ripped through the air. It surrounded him and echoed in his head, so raw and horrifying it didn't sound human. Draco knew he was too late. It was the sound of death.

"No!" Draco awoke with a start, his eyes flying open and his heart pounding. In a panic his head whipped around, searching for the source of the screaming in his dream. Slowly the light breezy feel of his home of the last three years sunk in and his breathing began to normalize.

A tapping at the window nearly made him jump out of his skin. He jerked his head around so quickly it was a wonder it stayed attached to his neck. He let out an audible breath of relief when he saw a small tawny owl trying to get his attention.

Shakily Draco stood and made his way to the window. Scratching the owl's head briefly, he detached the letter and read.

Malfoy,

You're book is in. I'll be at the shop until 5:00

if you wanted to swing by.

H. G

Draco dropped exhausted into the chair. Thank Merlin she's alive.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Bond

Hermione sat behind the counter of Flourish and Blotts. A few customers were wandering the aisles, and she absently watched as they browsed. It was nearing 5:00 and Malfoy hadn't come in to retrieve his book. Not that she expected him to drop everything and come running, but part of her hoped he would be in today. At least his arrival brought a little entertainment to the day. This early in the summer no one seemed to be too keen on shopping for books. She supposed they were all over at Fortescue's enjoying a frosty treat on a hot summer day.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny had been gone for nearly two weeks now, and she was feeling a bit lonely. Most nights were long and restless, filled with images of things she would prefer to forget. The only person she really had a sustained conversation with was Oliver. Or Oliver the Obnoxious as she usually thought of him. So oddly enough a conversation with Malfoy was something to look forward to. Perhaps those nightmares were messing with her head more than she thought.

Last night's dream had been particularly disturbing. She just kept hearing Bellatrix's deranged laugh as she was hit time and time again with the Cruciatus curse. Her laugh was the thing she remembered the clearest. It was the most terrifying thing she had ever heard. Just thinking of it made her start to sweat.

"Daydreaming on the job, Granger?" Came the smooth voice of Draco Malfoy. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Hermione jerked her head up and looked blankly at him for a moment before registering what he said. "Oh, Malfoy. Sorry, I didn't hear anyone come in. I was just- er- lost in thought."

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Trouble in Weasel paradise?"

Hermione snorted. "Not since we broke up. Believe me, we are much better off as friends."

"I never did understand what you saw in him," he grimaced.

"I think it was just that we spent so much time together under intense situations, that it seemed only natural to take the next step. War does crazy things to your emotions," she shrugged. "I love him dearly, but not in that fashion. We drove each other crazy."

Draco made a face of mock disgust. "He drove me crazy without spending any time with him."

Hermione giggled. "I believe the feeling was mutual."

A smirk curled his lips. "Yeah, I noticed that."

"How very astute of you," she laughed again.

Movement to her right drew her attention to the people standing near a book display. It was the couple who had been browsing in the back before Draco had come in. The man and woman stood very close together, whispering and glancing suspiciously at the blonde wizard in front of her.

"Uh...Malfoy? Do you know them?"

Draco's face became dark. He knew exactly what was coming. Casually he glanced at the whispering wizards. "No, just part of the Malfoy fan club," he said sardonically. With a sad smile he added, "Just one of the family perks."

Hermione was not exactly sure what to say. So instead she threw a nasty glance at the offending couple. "They could at least be a little less obvious."

Malfoy shrugged. "I have a few more titles I want to grab. I'll let the subtlety twins over there relax a bit," he said motioning his head in their direction, causing the wizards in question to gasp. He nodded at them, then strode off down the aisle. Hermione watched as the man put his arm around the trembling woman and ushered her out of the store.

Ten minutes later Draco was back at the counter, setting down a pile of at least 15 books and looking rather pleased. He glanced at her and held up a finger, running back to grab another he had forgotten.

Hermione began ringing him up. She smiled at the stack of books in front of her. It was incredible how normal Malfoy seemed in that moment. Gone was the prat who had tormented her youth, and in his place was this ordinary fellow who was excited to be buying a pile of books.

The front door chimed and Hermione glanced up. "Bloody hell," she groaned. Oliver walked in, an obnoxious look already plastered on his face.

"Blimey! Looks like someone is set to buy out the store, eh?" Joked her coworker. Then his face fell. "Don't worry, Hermione. I've got you covered. I'll handle this."

"Oliver, don't," she said knowing full well Draco was approaching.

"Oy!" Oliver squawked. "Why don't you just set those down and hurry out of here before you cause any trouble."

"Oliver!" Hermione snapped.

Draco's eyebrow shot up. "Well that was the general plan. You'll notice that I am about to make my purchases, and people typically leave after that."

"Yeah, well I'm thinking maybe you don't need to make any purchases," Oliver sneered.

"That's funny, then why do I have a sack of galleons in my hand?" Draco looked down in mock surprise.

"We don't need any galleons from the likes of you."

"Funny way of doing business."

"I'd rather the business shut down than have the likes of you in it."

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Hermione bellowed, sick of her sputtering admonitions being ignored. "Oliver, I don't know _what_ you're playing at, but you are out of line!" She fumed, her bushy hair seeming to grow wilder with the intensity of her anger. "You are doing nothing but showing the same unfounded hate and ignorance that we fought to abolish! You know nothing about him but the status of his blood, yet you judge him and hate him! Does that sound familiar? Have you learned _nothing_ from this war?" She stood, staring daggers at the man in front of her, who seemed to be suffering from some sort of shock induced paralysis. "Now thankfully I won't have to listen to anymore of your asinine rantings as my shift is done." Whipping around quickly to face the blonde wizard, who was in an equal state of shock, she said, "Come on Malfoy, pay the man and I"ll help you carry these back to your house." With that she grabbed half the stack and strode out the door.

The two men stood staring after her for a moment before they snapped out of it. Oliver quickly finished ringing up the rest of the books. Draco handed over the correct amount and followed behind the irate witch with the other half of his belongings.

Hermione was outside waiting for him, still looking dangerously angry. "You'll have to do the honors," she said stiffly and extended her arm.

Without a word Draco grabbed her hand and apparated to the country house. He watched as her bushy hair trailed behind her while she marched up the steps to his house. He opened the door for her and followed behind.

Hermione set his books down on a nearby table and began to rant while she paced. "I cannot _believe_ him."

"Granger."

"Of all the ignorant, imbecilic things to say!"

"Granger."

"I mean I knew he was a dunderhead, but of all the-"

"GRANGER!" Draco yelled.

Hermione snapped out of her tirade and turned around. Draco was staring at her with a look of incredulity.

"Why did you do that?" He asked in a near whisper.

"What? She asked. She was so caught up in her fury, her mind was still spinning.

"Why did you do that?" He asked again, louder.

"Look, Malfoy," she said, suddenly very aware of what she had done. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. It's just that-"

"Why did you _defend_ me?" He interrupted.

"Because he was wrong," she said, stunned.

"I'm a Malfoy, Granger. There is nothing to defend," he practically growled.

And then she understood. "Oh, I see. You're a Malfoy so you are guilty. What did you do?" She asked calmly.

Draco looked at her, aghast. How could she, of all people, ask that? "I was a Death Eater!" He yelled in frustration.

"True," she said, nodding as thought he has just commented on the weather. "And was that by choice?

He hesitated. It was certainly not a choice. Not his anyway. His father chose to offer him up to redeem the family. "No."

"Ok, so that's off the table."

"Off the-" he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I let a heard of bloody Death Eaters into Hogwarts!"

"Took your time about it, too."

"What?" He was gaping at her.

"Come on, Malfoy, you're very intelligent. Are you telling me it took you almost a year to fix a cabinet?"

"It was very complicated magic!" He shot back, knowing that it was only partially true.

"But did you really want to let them in?"

He was growing increasingly uncomfortable. "No. But I still did it."

She nodded once again. "Was your family under threat?" With every question she took a step forward.

Malfoy scoffed. "Of course they bloody were! Old Voldy wasn't exactly the loving forgiving sort."

Hermione nodded again in reply. His frustration was mounting. How could she defend him? "I tried to kill Dumbledore for Merlin's sake!"

"Did you?" Another step closer.

"You know that I didn't." He shifted nervously.

"Did you kill anyone?"

Draco hesitated. "Greyback."

Surprised registered on her face briefly. "So, you are guilty because against your will you became a Death Eater, and after delaying orders for months you finally fix a cabinet so your family wouldn't get murdered, you refused to kill Dumbledore, and you _did_ kill one of the most dangerous Werewolves of your time?"

Draco stared at her in disbelief. His breathing was ragged. Finally he bellowed "I BLOODY NAMED YOU, GRANGER! They brought you to me, and I bloody named you for them!" He turned his back to her, hanging his head in shame, trying desperately to regain his composure.

Hermione gazed at him a long moment, allowing him a few deep breaths. "No you didn't."

He spun back around, surprised. "Yes I did."

"No," she said walking closer, "You didn't. The snatchers brought us in and forced you forward. You didn't reveal Harry, you said you didn't know that it was him. Narcissa recognized me. It was her, not you. She said she remembered me from Madam Malkin's and the Daily Prophet. You're answer was 'Yeah, maybe' or something to that effect. Ron too, you said maybe. It wasn't you. You didn't actually name any of us."

Draco stood directly in front of her now, looking as thought he might flee at any moment. He shook his head vigorously. "No. It's my fault," he looked up, finally staring into the brown of her eyes. "She tortured you because of me."

Hermione flinched, but didn't break his gaze. She shook her head. "She tortured me because of who I was." She swallowed and reached forward, grasping his hands in hers. "Listen to me Draco. You are not to blame for this. I don't even blame your mother. They already had a good idea of who we were. She was trying to save her son. You know that I would have been tortured regardless of what you said. They had already made up their minds."

Draco started into her eyes. He was not sure how this was possible. How could anyone stand to look at him, much less absolve him of any guilt. Especially her. She was the one he craved forgiveness from, but part of him could not allow it.

"No," he said releasing her hands and taking a few steps back. "I don't know how you can be standing here now after what I did. Complete strangers can't even stand to look at me."

Hermione shrugged. "They're wrong. They don't know anything about you, just Lucius. And you are _not_ your father."

Draco froze. Those words were what he never dared to wish for, certain no one in his lifetime would ever utter them. For a long moment he stood still, not even daring to breathe, fighting against the tears that were suddenly threatening to spill. He wanted to say something, but he had no words to convey how much those words meant. "Granger." It was a desperate whisper, and all he could manage.

Hermione smiled gently. She wasn't sure exactly how, but she knew that this moment was a changing point.

"Why did you come back?" She asked quietly. He said nothing, but his eyes flitted briefly to her arm. Tentatively she began, "The book by Wiggins. He's doing research on healing wounds from dark magic. Did – did you come back to - check on me? To maybe – help this?" She motioned to her arm.

Draco's heart was beating wildly. He wasn't sure what to do, what to say. Years of never trusting anyone made him want to lash out. But he was trying to be different. As she said, he was not his father. Ever so slowly, he gave a single self conscious nod.

"It could help you too, you know," she said motioning to his arm. Somehow in the depths of her soul, she knew that they shared a bond now. The two of them, branded against their will, and damaged by the same night. "Let me help you." It wasn't a question.

"Ok," he said softly.

"As long as you promise me to not talk nonsense like that again. Now, if you want to talk about what an insufferable git you were in school, I'd be more than happy to," she joked, hoping to diffuse his tension.

Malfoy snorted. He smirked. "Deal."

"See you here tomorrow? Maybe around 1?"

He smiled. "Sure Granger."

She smiled brightly at him and walked towards the door. Her hand was on the knob when he spoke once more.

"Granger?" She looked at him expectantly. "I really am sorry."

"I know Malfoy," she said softly. "But there's no need to be."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: A New Beginning

Hermione woke early the next morning. She hadn't slept much, but for the first time it had little to do with her dreams. Malfoy seemed to occupy her every thought. He had just been so...raw. If there had been any lingering doubts about his change in demeanor, they had all evaporated last night. His voice, that pained and emotional voice, rang through her head.

Hermione sat at the table, absently stirring her coffee as she thought about what the last three years must have been like for him. If the people at the bookstore were anything to go by, he certainly hadn't had an easy time of it in public. She could only imagine what it must be like to have everyone in the wizarding world hate you. Judging by the pain on his face, it wasn't a very happy existence.

Hermione frowned. She didn't like to think of Malfoy sitting alone every day. Of course if someone would have told her that was how she would feel three years ago, she would have checked them into St. Mungo's. But now, it was different. _He_ was different.

After Harry confided in her about finding Draco so distraught 6th year, she had started to wonder if there was more to him than met the eye. She had heard enough horror stories from Sirius's youth to know that most Pureblood families put way too many expectations on their children. And she could not imagine Lucius being any different. Most likely he had been worse.

Draco's face flashed through her mind for the countless time. It was very clear how much it meant to him when she said he was not his father. He had just been so...genuine. His grey eyes had been full of so much pain, yet so much gratitude. It broke her heart, while at the same time strangely made it beat a little faster. It was a side of Draco that few people saw, and she felt oddly privileged to be one of them.

At the same time, it also made her rather worried about going over there today. At the time it felt like the right thing to offer, but now it made her nervous. Draco was not exactly the sort to carry his emotions on his sleeve. In the past when his façade cracked in front of someone, he had lashed out quite fiercely. Yet last night he hadn't even come close to doing that to her. He had just remained quiet for the most part, and even given her a shy smile. A smile she wouldn't let herself think about for long at a time.

Hermione was in uncharted territory. If he wasn't going to lash out, she figured there was a high chance that he would turn to withdrawal as the next form of defense. She half expected an owl to arrive cancelling their meeting. However, she was determined not to let that happen. It must be the healer instincts, or so she told herself, but she knew that Draco really needed to open up to someone and she was not about to let him withdraw and go back to his solitary existence.

Yes, she thought as she started gathering books she thought might prove useful, it was just the mediwitch training coming out. It was only natural that she felt the urge to help someone who needed it. That had been her life for two and a half years, after all. That was it, nothing more. It had to be.

* * *

Draco was nervous. Hermione would be there in 20 minutes, and he had no idea what to expect. He felt very exposed. Opening up to people was something that was not exactly encouraged in his world. He was taught at a very young age to hold up his facade. Very few people get through it. In all actuality, she might be the first person he willingly lowered his guard to. While it was true he had cracked a few times under stress, he had been putting huge efforts to keeping it up. This was something he had wanted to do. Aside from his mother, he had never done that before. But she had touched a nerve when she defended him. Then after what she had said to him, he needed her to know how much it meant. And now he didn't know where that left him.

The thing that worried him the most was what she would think of him now. In all his experiences, any sign of vulnerability was exploited and cause for ridicule. Although he doubted that was something Granger would do, he also could not stand to see her pity. Not after what she had said. He hated to admit it, but that would break him.

There was one thing he was certain of. He did not deserve her forgiveness, but he sure as hell was not going to let her down if he could help it. She was the one person that was even remotely on his side, and he couldn't afford to lose it.

A soft pop made Draco jump to his feet. She was here. There was a soft knock at the door. He took a moment to calm his nerves, took a deep breath and arranged his face into the detached expression he was accustomed to. With one last glance around the room to ensure nothing was out of order, he opened the door.

Hermione was standing patiently at the door. She was wearing a pale blue ¾ length sleeve shirt and black skirt. Her normally bushy hair was tamed into a neat ponytail, with two stray curls framing her face. She looked beautiful, and Draco had to remind himself to blink.

"Hey," he said lamely, welcoming her in.

"Hey," Hermione smiled warmly, stepping into the house. She gasped.

"What is it?" Draco looked around, startled.

"Sorry, it's just—this place is beautiful! I didn't really look properly yesterday, being so annoyed with Oliver. But this," she said motioning around at the airy cottage feeling of the house,' is just...perfect! Did you do all of this?"

Draco shrugged. For some reason it pleased him that she was impressed. "Yeah. Well, mostly. When I first came here It was stuffed full of antiques and the walls were rather dark. I got rid of most everything and lightened the color. It just felt too...formal I suppose."

Hermione nodded. "I agree. A house needs to feel like a home, not a museum. It should have a library though," she added with a smirk.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Care for the tour?"

"Yes, please."

They wandered through the house, with Hermione oooing and ahhing as the went. Finally they ended up in the library. "I'm afraid it doesn't have the best selection," he explained, motioning to the book collection. "This house was mostly for show, I think. I only ever remember being her once when I was young. My mother and I came here once when Father was away on business."

Hermione stood there, taking everything in. She knew why he had chosen this house. Only the memory of his mother lived here. "I'm sorry about your mother," she said softly.

Malfoy glanced at her before turning his head away. He had heard that phrase many times in the days following the battle. They were always empty words. But he knew she meant it. "Thanks,' he replied quietly. "So am I."

"I Obliviated by parents," Hermione blurted out. She cringed and turned slightly red at Draco's shocked expression. "Sorry, I just—well I mean I didn't want you to feel—well I know you aren't used to er-trusting me and I just wanted to show-"

"Granger, take a breath," Draco smirked to let her know he understood. He looked at her a moment. "You really Obliviated your parents?"

Hermione nodded. "It was safer for them if they never knew me," she said sadly. She turned to the bookcase and spoke. "I told myself I would find them when it was safe. After the war things were still so unstable, so Shacklebot and I thought it was best to wait. So we did. Then as things started to stabilize, I started to wonder if they are just better off where they are. Even if I find them, there is no guarantee that the spell can be reversed."

A sudden urge to hug her overtook Draco. He was not entirely sure where it came from, but seeing her freely share her pain with him stirred something inside of him. It made him a bit uneasy. He was not accustomed to people opening up to him. Ordinarily he would flee this kind of situation, but it was different with her. She could easily have never spoken to him again after their first run in, but here she was.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Hermione turned and gave him a strained smile. "Shall we get to work?" She moved to the table and set her bag down and began to pull out the books she had brought with. "I thought first we should start with compiling a list of all known substances that have had even the slightest effect on dark spells. Then we can cross reference that with-" she broke off when she noticed Draco laughing. "What?" She asked, a little self conscious.

"Nothing," he said quickly, trying to contain his mirth.

"What's so funny?" She asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Draco cleared his throat and made an effort to control his smile. "Well it was just a bit amusing watching you pull book after book out of that tiny little bag. It just struck me as very...Grangerish."

Hermione's mouth fell open, causing more laughter from her companion. "Grangerish?"

"Very," Malfoy laughed. "Did you bring your whole collection?" He motioned to the 10 books already sitting on the table.

Hermione looked sheepishly at her small beaded bad with the undetectable extension charm. Defensively she said, "Just the ones I thought would be useful." He quirked an eyebrow. "About 20," she mumbled.

Draco went into another fit of laughter. He stopped a moment later when he became aware of her looking at him with a rather peculiar look on her face. "What?" Malfoy asked, a little unnerved.

"It's just—I don't think I've ever seen you laugh before. A proper laugh I mean, not the sniggering I remember," she said, continuing her scrutinous stare.

"You've seen me laugh," he frowned, a bit taken aback. Surely in six years of school he had laughed in her general vicinity.

She shook her head. "Not like this. It's—different. It suits you."

Draco's stomach did an odd sort of flip. There was a moments pause when his brain seemed to have taken leave of his body. Then gathering his wits he said, "Er—why don't I show you what I've been doing so far."

"Great!" Said Hermione, who seemed to have just snapped out of a trance of her own. "I can't wait to start."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Visitor

The hours passed easily. Hermione was amazed by how different it was to work with Malfoy. After years of near forcing Harry and Ron to do anything remotely close to studious, Draco was a pleasant change of pace. He had already compiled a fairly extensive list, and by working together they had an almost overwhelmingly large collection of possible substances to aid their cause by the end of the day.

And aside from being productive, it was actually enjoyable. They had had a few lively conversations about things like the properties of doxy venom, or whether mandrake leaf of root would be best suited for various scenarios. Hermione could not remember ever having a more satisfying discussions. Though Harry and Ron were brilliant in their own ways, their eyes tended to glaze over quite quickly when she started to talk about pretty much anything she had read in a book. She found herself wondering what other subjects Draco had an interest in.

Before either of them had realized, the entire day had flown by and they were well into the night before they had decided to call it quits. As it was Saturday, they quickly made plans to continue the following afternoon.

Hermione sat at her kitchen table, eating a quick lunch. She was supposed to be meeting up with Draco in an hour. The morning had seemed to drag was practically counting the minutes until she got to dive into research with Draco. Although she did enjoy working at Flourish and Blotts, it could get quite dull at times. When she had decided to seek employment there, she had envisioned having hours to read anything in the store. At times she did, but mostly it was mundane things like arranging displays and dealing with customers. The mere presence of that many books made her in enjoy it nonetheless, but it had been a long time since she had felt such excitement for was she was doing. Even St. Mungo's hadn't given her the thrill of discovery that she longed for. But today she felt her old enthusiasm coursing through her body.

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. With a quizzical look at Crookshanks, who in turn looked thoroughly unimpressed by the disruption, she went to see who it was.

She opened the door a crack and groaned. "Hello Oliver. Did you need something?"

"Er—can I come in?" The black haired wizard asked. He stood awkwardly in the hallway with his hand rubbing the back of his neck furiously.

Hermione started at him, briefly contemplating telling him to shove off. Finally politeness and a vague fear he was going to seriously injure his neck gave way. "Sure," she said with a sigh. She opened the door and waved him in. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked sarcastically.

"Well, I just—er—I wanted to make sure you were ok," he sputtered.

"What? Why wouldn't I be ok?" She asked, a bit confused.

"Well," Oliver started a bit hesitantly. "It's just that, you left Friday in a bit of a huff. And—uh..."

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Spit it out Oliver"

"You said you were going to his bloody house! A _Death Eater's_ house!" He spat.

"Once again," she began, trying to keep her temper in check, "he has been cleared by the ministry."

"But he's a _Death Eater_! And when I came by yesterday you weren't here! I nearly called the Auror's office right then! I was going to today if you still weren't here!" Oliver stammered.

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Called the _Auror's_ office? Honestly Oliver, what did you think was going to happen?"

"Loads of things!" He spat. "He could have Imperioused you, or hexed you, or—or locked you away!"

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" She said, rolling her eyes. "Yep, you're right Oliver. I brought the books to Malfoy's house and then he lured me in with some sweets and threw me in the dungeon. I've just now managed to get out. Had to work my way past three trolls. Tricky business, you know."

Oliver was gaping at her. "Are you serious?"

"No!" Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get going now."

"Where are you going?" Oliver asked. "Do you need me to escort you? Can't be too careful. What if you are on his radar now?"

Hermione threw him a glare. "No, I do not. I'm off to Malfoy's anyway. One of the trolls and I really hit if off, and we're going to see if we have a future together. So out you go then," she said practically shoving him out the door and slamming it closed.

"It's not funny, you know!" Oliver called through the door. "He's dangerous! I'm only looking out for you!"

"For Merlin's sake, "she grumbled, trying to block out the rest of her coworkers nonsense. Grabbing her bag, she quickly patted Crookshanks good bye and apparated to Malfoy's house.

Hermione walked up to the door, but hesitated. She was still at least 45 minutes early. Ordinarily she wouldn't show up like this, but with Oliver rambling on she hadn't thought about the time, just that she needed to be away from there. She had just decided to knock anyway, when the door opened.

Draco greeted her with an amused smirk. "It's ok to knock, you know."

Hermione let out a sign. "Sorry, I know I'm early, but you'll never guess who showed up to my flat!"

Draco motioned her in. "Potter?" He asked nonchalantly, ignoring the odd clenching of his stomach.

She shook her head. "No, he won't be back for a few weeks," she said, plopping down in one of the armchairs. "Oliver!"

"Oh?" Draco asked suspiciously. "I imagine he didn't just pop in for a drink?"

"No, and thank goodness for that," she shuddered. "He wanted to make sure I was alright. Apparently he also stopped by yesterday, and since I wasn't there, assumed you had taken me hostage or offed me or something."

Draco shrugged. "I'm not surprised. It's not as if I usually get hugs and cookies when I go out of the house. I get glares from just walking past people. I can't imagine announcing you're walking into a Death Eater's house would go over well."

"But you're not a Death Eater!" Hermione huffed. "And you were publicly cleared by the ministry."

"True, but even I can't blame them for being less than thrilled to see me after everything that happened." Draco gave another sad shrug. "If I remember right, you weren't exactly pleased to see me either." Seeing her crestfallen face he quickly added, "It's ok Granger, really. I'm just saying I get it. I deserve it."

"No you don't!" She said fiercely.

Malfoy shook his head. "Not everyone is as open minded and forgiving as you, Granger."

Hermione gave a long sigh. "Well they should be. Or at the very least not as daft as Oliver. I think he believed me for a moment when I said I had to work my way past three trolls to escape."

Draco chortled. "You said what?"

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I may have also implied I was coming back because I—er—hit it off with one of said trolls."

Draco burst out laughing. He quite liked the sarcastic side of Granger. "Should I be insulted?"

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked. "I didn't even think-" she broke out in a fit of giggles. "Sorry Malfoy," she said between laughs.

"Is that better or worse than being a ferret?" He asked slyly.

Hermione flinched, but laughed lightly. "Um...better I suppose."

"I'm moving up in the world," Draco wriggled his eyebrows playful, causing Hermione to laugh and chuck a pillow him. "Hey!" He ducked.

"Well, we can't have your ego get too inflated, we have work to do," Hermione stuck out her tongue in what Draco thought was a charmingly childlike fashion.

"Ok," Draco said, standing up." You head back, I'll make us some tea."

* * *

"Oh, I didn't realize it was so late," Hermione yawned. "I'd better be going back. I have to work in the morning."

Draco glanced at the large grandfather clock that sat in the corner. It was nearly midnight. "Of course," he said standing. He wasn't sure what to say. Somehow he had managed to spend an entire weekend with her, and now it was about to end. He didn't want it to. He worried she was going to finally see reason and take her leave. He was sure any moment she was going to make some excuse not to come back. It was a stupid, selfish, irrational thought, wanting to keep her to himself. But he couldn't shake it.

"Listen Malfoy, I was thinking,"she began. "Do you have any potion supplies here?"

Draco stood staring stupidly at her. Those were not the words he was expecting to come out of her mouth. "Uh...I'm sorry?"

"It's just that you had mentioned that all of your books were still at the, uh," she swallowed thick, which did not go unnoticed. "At the Manor, and I wondered if that was the same for your cauldron and the like, or if there was a supply here?"

"Oh, uh..no. There isn't anything here really."

Hermione nodded. "I thought as much. Well I was thinking, soon we'll be wanting to start picking a few things to experiment with. So why don't I stop by the apothecary after work and get a cauldron and some basic stuff and bring here? Then later when we decide what to try, we can make another trip and get what we need." When Draco didn't at first respond she added quickly, "I mean it doesn't have to be tomorrow, it could be any time really."

"Tomorrow is fine," he said quickly.

Hermione smiled brightly. "Ok! Great, well I will just pop over after I do that then. That would put me here around 5:30 or 6, is that alright?"

"Perfect," he said.

"Ok, well, see you then!" Hermione flashed another dazzling smile and walked out the door.

"Yeah, see you," Draco said to the empty room. He grinned, still staring at the door. He suddenly felt like maybe his luck was starting to turn.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Once again everyone, thank you so much for reading! It just makes my day that others are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! We're almost to the really good stuff too! I am really excited for that. Until then, hope you like the build up!**

* * *

Chapter 8: The Slip Up

Hermione was counting down the seconds until the end of her shift. Only 1200 to go. Her day had seemed long. Granted, getting little sleep due to a very intense nightmare didn't help, but she had mostly grown accustomed to that by now. She was itching to get to the apothecary, and more specifically, to deliver what she bought there.

It was an intellectual reason that had her so looking forward to the evening. It had been ages since she had had reason to research and brew such complicated potions. Years ago she had brewed a sleeping draught when the nightmares got to be too much, but she soon realized that she would have to take it every night if she wanted to get rid of them and she hadn't been willing to take the health risk. She had not made anything since. Working at St. Mungo's had had it's advantages. But the potions they would eventually brew would be very tricky, and she looked forward to the challenge. So clearly that was the reason why she was counting down the final 950 seconds before she could leave. It had nothing to do with the stark blonde wizard with the stormy grey eyes and killer smile. _Nothing_. Just his academic contributions. His exceedingly attractive academic contributions.

The bell above the door chimed, breaking her out of her reverie. Which, Hermione thought, was probably a good thing.

"Here we go," she whispered to herself as Oliver strode in.

"Hermione," Oliver looked at her very seriously, his brown eyes full of concern. "We need to talk."

"No, Oliver, we don't," Hermione said firmly.

"Yes," he said coming behind the counter to stand next to her. "We do. Listen, I'm sorry if it seemed forward to come to your flat unannounced. I was just worried about you."

"It's fine," she said, using all her self control not to roll her eyes. "But I assure you, there is nothing to worry about. So now for Merlin's sake, drop it."

Oliver nodded his head. "Ok, you're right. I'll drop it. I mean, it's not like you'll be seeing him again anytime soon anyway, right?" He laughed. "Just me overreacting."

Hermione scoffed. "And what would it matter if I did?"

Oliver's jaw dropped. "Tell me you aren't seeing him again?"

Anger was rising from her core. "I will do nothing of the sort."

"Hermione, you can't be serious! Why in Merlin's name would you see that loser again?"

"DON'T call him a loser, Oliver!" Her eyes flared dangerously.

"Fine, I'll call him a bloody Death Eater then! Hermione, he's dangerous! He's not someone to be palling around with!"

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If they had been outside of the store she would have thrown Ginny's famous bat bogey hex at him. "Oliver, I am going to say this once, ok? I appreciate your concern, no matter how misguided and idiotic it may be. But let me set a few things straight. First and foremost, it is absolutely none of your concern who I choose to be friends with. I could invite a whole heard of dementors over for tea and you wouldn't have a bloody thing to say about it. And secondly," she said , her voice rising, "I am not a bloody damsel in distress. I am more than capable of taking care of myself. So keep your nose out of my business!"

"Hermione," Oliver said, exasperated. He ran a hand nervously through his spiky black hair. "With all due respect, I don't think you know what you're dealing with here."

"Is that so?" She said with a look so scathing that Oliver took a few hasty steps back. The bell chimed and a young couple entered, only to turn on the spot and leave again after seeing Hermione. "I have fought for my life more times than I care to count. I have been tortured and broken and I have watched my friends die by the hands of Death Eater scum while you sat safely at Beauxbatons sipping tea. So do NOT sit there and pretend you know better than I do!"

"That's not what I meant," Oliver squeaked. "I know that. I just meant—er—keep your guard up. Their lot's loyalties run deep. I don't buy the reformed act."

"Oliver," Hermione said in an icy tone, "I will excuse this for now, assuming you are trying to make some absurd show of chivalry, and control this overwhelming desire to hex you. But I swear to Merlin you better drop this now before I change my mind."

Oliver licked his lips nervously. "Ok. Consider it dropped."

"Good. Then I will see you tomorrow," Hermione threw him one last warning glare and left.

* * *

Draco sat at his table, drumming his fingers anxiously on the mahogany surface. He had managed to busy himself for most of the day. All the notes they had taken over the weekend were organized and sorted into categories. He had made a list of combinations he wanted to try, and had started a shopping list of sorts. He had even gone through a few of the books they had already been through to see if there was anything they might have missed. And now he was waiting.

Any moment now he would hear a familiar pop that signified Granger's arrival. It was fast becoming one of his favorite sounds. He was desperately trying to convince himself that he would have been just as happy with anyone that walked through that door. It had been years without any meaningful social interaction, so surely if Harry Potter himself walked in he would be happy to see him. Well, maybe not Potter. And definitely not the Weasel. But anyone else would be great.

The truth was, Draco knew that was not the case. Hermione was different. He enjoyed her company more than he had enjoyed pretty much anyone's that he could remember. And that scared him. She was intelligent, and he liked that their conversations could easily go from murtlap essence to ancient runes without skipping a beat, but he knew that wasn't the whole of it. He also liked the way she bit her lip when she concentrated, and the way a few stray curls always escaped when her hair was tied back, and the way her smile seemed to come from the very core of her being.

Draco sighed as his head dropped into his hands. He didn't deserve to feel like that. He had no right after what his family had done to her. He may have promised not to bring it up, but he still wasn't sure how should could stand to look at him. But she did. And she defended him, and willingly spent time with him. He didn't deserve any of it, especially from her.

Still, he thought, perhaps it was fitting. Since spending so much time with her, his nightmares had gotten worse. Every night he frantically searched for her while she screamed. That coupled with knowing she could never possibly feel anything for him was a different kind of torture. Maybe that was the universe's payback.

A knock at the door made him jump. He had been so intent on his gloomy thoughts he hadn't heard her apparate in. Draco strode over to open the door. Hermione was standing there looking lovely as ever with a smile plastered to her face. His face dropped. That was a fake smile if he ever saw one.

"What's wrong?" He asked frowning.

"Hermione sighed. "It's nothing."

"Granger, tell me." He already had a pretty good idea of what it was.

"Oliver again," she said, obviously still seething.

"What did that git say this time?" Draco asked.

"The same old rubbish." Hermione growled. "You're dangerous and all that nonsense." Draco couldn't help but feel a slight elation that didn't seem to think he was. "He keeps acting as though I can't take care of myself. This time he even had the nerve to tell me I didn't know what I was getting into!" Her eyes flashed with anger.

Draco scoffed. "That _you_ wouldn't know? Honestly, does he even know you at all?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at his indignation on her behalf. "He knows what the Daily Prophet has said, but he wasn't there. He didn't fight. And really, the reporting left a lot of the more gruesome details out, so I suppose he doesn't really know how bad it was."

Draco nodded. He had read the paper himself. While it praised the Golden Trio regularly, a lot of the carnage was glossed over.

"I just don't see why he feels the need to stick his nose in where it doesn't belong!" She snapped. "Doesn't he have anything better to do?" Hermione narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "What are you chuckling about?"

Draco shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? He fancies you."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "He most certainly does not!"

"He does," Draco said matter of factly.

"That's preposterous!" She sputtered.

"Come on Granger. Are you honestly going to tell me that you haven't noticed the affect you have on men?" As soon as the words left his mouth he wished he could take them back. He thanked Merlin she had just turned to set her bag on the table and missed his cringe. _Where's a timeturner when you need one_ , he thought.

"What?" She stammer, turning slowly back to look at him.

"Er..."Draco began awkwardly. Oh Merlin, how could he say this without making a complete fool of himself. "Surely you realize that you're a far cry from ugly?"  
Hermione stood gaping. Did he just tell her that she was pretty? "Uh...thank you Malfoy."

Draco gave a single nod, looking at the ground. He cleared his throat nervously. "Listen, if this is causing too much of a problem, I completely understand."

"What? No!" Hermione said vehemently, startling the both of them. Ignoring the blush creeping up her cheeks, she continued, "It isn't a problem. It's—I want to be here. That is, if you dont' mind. I kind of thrust this whole thing at you. Oh Merlin!" She said, the realization hitting her hard. "Did I pressure you into this?"

"No!" Draco said quickly. "No, I was planning to research all of this anyway. And to be honest, it's nice to have to company." He finished quietly, refusing to meet her eyes. Inwardly he was groaning. _When did I become a bumbling Hufflepuff,_ he thought miserably.

Hermione exhaled in relief. "Oh good. I'm not sure if you ever noticed, but I do tend to get a bit carried away at times."

Draco snorted. "I think I recall something like that."

Hermione grinned. "On that note," she said before the awkwardness engulfed them, "Let me show you what I bought."

To Draco's great relief, the rest of the night continued as if nothing had happened. They looked over their notes once more and began the process of picking which ingredients to try together first. There were quite a few lengthy debates and a new list of interactions to research by the end of the night.

"I'm going to try to find a few more books about healing plants tomorrow if I can, " Hermione said as she studied their new list.

"It couldn't hurt," Draco agreed.

"Okay then," Hermione said, packing her things. "See you tomorrow Malfoy."

"See you tomorrow Granger," he answered with a smirk.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Once again, just a quick thank you to all of you reading and reviewing! It always makes my day!**

* * *

Chapter 9: The Apothecary

The rest of the week breezed past. They quickly fell into a comfortable routine. Every night after work Hermione would apparate over to the country house. They would spend hours doing research and making lists and debating theories. She realized, however, that they spent just as much time in lighthearted bickering, laughing, and talking. It was careful conversation at first, but comfortable. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement not to discuss anything about their past, especially relating to their families or the war, as it was painful for both of them. But she enjoyed spending time with him more than she ever would have expected to, considering their school history.

It was Friday night when Hermione broke the unspoken rule. The two of them sat in what had become their usual places in the library, Hermione at one side of the small table with books laid out in front of her, and Draco directly across from her with his own spread. She was flipping through a book on healing plants when she spotted a section on the essence of daisy root. The picture displayed on the page was a perfect white daisy. Sadly she caressed the picture, her mind wandering to another time.

"Granger," Draco said, leaning forward. "You've been staring at that page for five minutes."

Hermione looked up quickly, her chocolate eyes shining with unshed tears. "Oh," she murmured, trying to collect herself. "Sorry."

"Granger, what is it?" He asked with concern.

Hermione looked back to the page, slowly tracing the flower with her finger. A sad smile came to her lips. "My mother loves daisies. My father was always bringing them for her. I used to think of them as such a happy flower. But now..." She trailed off, chancing a look at Draco. Ordinarily she never spoke of her parents, preferring to leave them to private moments of pain. But in those stormy grey eyes she saw a look of understanding. "It's funny isn't it? How something once so happy can become so painful?"

There was a long moment of silence. "My mother liked roses," Draco said softly. "She had dozens of rose bushes in the garden. She used to say tending them helped clear her mind."

Hermione smiled sadly and reached forward, placing her hand on tops of his and giving it a gentle squeeze. Slowly he turned his hand over, cupping their palms together, and answered with a gentle pressure of his own. It was a simple gesture, innocent even. But it carried with it a warmth that seemed to radiate up her arm and into her heart. She gazed at their hands before speaking again.

"What are we, Malfoy?" She whispered, causing Draco's mind to nearly explode in panic. "Are we orphans? I know your mother is-" she swallowed painfully, "is gone. But your father and my parents, they're still here. But they aren't at the same time. Not really dead, but not here. Not accessible, not a part of our lives. And I don't—I don't know what that makes us."

Hermione watched as Draco's face transformed into a look that was gentle and kind. And more than that, it was full of understanding. She had never seen a look like that on Malfoy's face before. She found it oddly soothing. It occurred to her in that moment that the two of them had more in common than she did with her friends.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. Gently squeezing her hand one last time, he pulled his away and ran both hands through his platinum blonde hair and clasped them behind his neck. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I wish I was sometimes."

Hermione's heart ached. What must it be like to have Lucius as a father. "I know you must hate him," she started gently. "But you know, it's ok for you to also still love him. Despite everything, he's still you're father."

Draco's eyes snapped to hers, searching as if trying to determine the depths of her sincerity. Finally he looked away, his eyes shining slightly. "Yeah," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

As if on cue, they both let out a long drawn out sigh. They caught each other's eye and both burst out laughing.

"Well aren't we a happy pair." Hermione gave another watery laugh. "Why don't we call it a night? It's already midnight. But I was thinking, maybe we should go to the apothecary tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I am itching to try a few things out."

Draco's eyes widened. "Together?"

"Sure, why not? We might see something there we haven't thought of yet, and two brains are better than one." She answered.

"Granger, I am not very well received. I'm not sure you really want to be seen with me," he said, genuinely concerned.

Hermione stood up and walked around the table. "Aww, don't worry Malfoy. I'll protect you," she joked, ruffling his silky blonde hair.

Draco scowled half heartedly and stood up to face her. "I'm serious, Granger. That git at the bookstore is chummy compared to some."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I have heard plenty of people spitting venom at you before. I was in Gryffindor, remember?" She said with an amused smile.

"I was talking about what they could say about _you_ ," he said quickly, looking away.

"Oh." Hermione blinked. She stupidly hadn't even considered that aspect, being more concerned with the hatred towards him. "But-"

"If it's me that's one thing, Granger. But I won't have—just—not you. Not to you." Draco looked down, once again wondering why he was acting so dastardly Hufflepuffish.

"Malfoy," she said gently. "I don't care. If they insist on keeping their heads up their arses, well then I'll-I'll hand them a flashlight," she said resolutely.

Draco started. "A what?"

"It's a small Muggle light," she giggled. "Ok, so that was a rather lame attempt at humor, but more to the point, I don't care what they say."

"Why?" He asked incredulously.

"Why should it matter what someone else says? Especially when they don't know what they are talking about?"

"But why put yourself in that position?" He prodded.

"Because it isn't fair!" She cried. "Why should you have to hide when you clearly are working hard to do something good? Why should you get stuck with the stigma of something you didn't do? It isn't fair for you to be stuck here because of a blasted legacy that you don't want! If they don't want to see that bloodline doesn't make a person who they are, then what the hell was the point of this war?"

It was as if Draco couldn't move. He had a million thoughts swirling through his head, most prominently that he did not deserve those words from her, but he couldn't speak. All he could do was stare into her gold flecked eyes.

"So that's settled," Hermione said with a curt nod. "So, bright and early then? Say 9:00?" She waited for him to nod. "Good. See you then." She turned and marched defiantly out the door, not noticing the worry in Draco's eye as he watched her leave.

* * *

Draco was pacing the living area, trying to calm himself. How had he gotten himself into this? He knew in his gut something very unpleasant was going to come of this little field trip. It always did. How could it possibly go right? Arguably the most famous and beloved witch in the wizarding world was just about to be seen in public with a hated Death Eater. Someone was going to get hexed, of that he was sure.

Dropping into the nearest chair, he let out a growl. How did she talk him into this? Did he have no self control anymore? This was _no_ t a good idea. He was never overly excited to go out in public to begin, with since it usually did not go well, but now he felt like he was dragging Hermione down with him.

Springing back to his feet, he resumed his pacing. It didn't help that his sleep was getting more and more disrupted. The nightmares were getting almost exponentially worse. The more time he spent with Hermione, the worse they got. Still, he craved that time with her, and lack of sleep was not going to make him give that up. It certainly wasn't doing his already frayed nerves any good, however.

Draco was uneasy. Not just about the upcoming excursion, but with himself. He shouldn't be feeling this way about Granger. And not because of the stupid Pureblood views shoved down his throat that caused him to push his boyish crush away in first year. Because he was unworthy. He could no longer deny that he had feelings for her, but he could never act on them. A friendship was already more than he could ask for. Even if by some miracle she were to feel the same, he could never let her be damned to the same outcast life he was living. Even being seen in public with him could send her down that road. Which is why he been pacing frantically around his house for the past hour. He had to talk her out of it.

A familiar pop stopped him in his tracks. Draco took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was sure to be a fight. With another breath, he slowly opened the door.

Hermione stood at his doorstep with a look of scary determination. "Save your breath Malfoy, we're going."

The wizard stood frozen, taking in the scene. She was always beautiful, but the raw valor displayed before him was stunning. She stood straight, her head held high with her brown curls cascading down, gently moving in the breeze. Her chocolate brown eyes were locked on his, flashing dangerously. All the plans of convincing her flew out of his head.

"Well come on," Hermione said and marched down the steps to the apparation point. "Let's go," She held her hand out for him to grasp.

Draco snapped out of his trance and began to follow. "Granger, this really isn't a good idea."

Hermione smirked. "Since when did I ever listen to you."

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Against his better judgment he grabbed her hand.

Moments later they found themselves in Diagon Alley. It wasn't as busy as it would be in a months time, but there were still a plenty of people milling about.

"Let's get this over with," Draco mumbled and began the walk to the apothecary.

The bell rang as they opened the door. The shopkeeper, a small balding man with a pleasant face and greying hair, looked up with a smile. "Good morning, my lady! And to you as well sir," he said, turning to Draco. The man's face fell.

"Good morning," Hermione smiled cheerily, breezing past him into the depths of the store. "Relax, Malfoy," she breathed. "Let's just get what we came here for."

Draco could feel the man's eyes on him as he began to look around. Hoping for the best, he began to fill jars with the items on their list. Soon he could hear footsteps shuffling their way.

"Miss," he said in a low voice, "is everything alright?"

"Of course," Hermione said with all the sunshine she could muster.

"Do you want me to—er—call for someone?" The man whispered.

"Whatever for?" She asked with feigned surprise. "My friend and I are just out doing a little shopping."

The stubby shopkeep shuffled his feet nervously. "Yes, I see that." Then dropping his voice once again he said "Are you in any danger?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Hermione said exasperatedly. "He has been cleared of all charges! Do you honestly think he would kidnap me, then bring me out in public to get some dandelion root? That's ludicrous. Mr. Malfoy and I will be spending a lot of time and money in your shop in the future, so I suggest you get over your ignorant prejudice and show some manners to your customers."

The balding man sputtered and looked at Draco, who merely raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Yes, of course."

They finished their shopping, paid the now overly polite shopkeep, and walked out the door. "See, that wasn't so hard!" She beamed.

"Oy!" Came an angry yell from behind them.

"You just had to say it," Draco muttered, turning around.

A tall, brown haired wizard marched towards the pair, glaring at Draco. "Is there a problem here?

"I beg your pardon?" Draco answered, throwing on his most convincing look of confusion.

"I wasn't talking to you," the man sneered.

"I see. As you were looking directly at me, I think you can understand my confusion. But to answer your question, no there is no problem here."

"I'd like to hear it from the lady," the man snarled, casting his blue eyes to Hermione.

"No problem at all," she smiled sweetly. "Just doing a little shopping."

"Shopping?" The man scoffed. "With that snake?" His head turned to the storefront, then a look of disdain colored his face. "Running low on the ingredients for your love potion, are you?" He spat at Draco.

The Slytherin's eyebrows shot up. "My what?"

"You heard me." The man took a step closer.

"He most certainly is not!" Hermione cried indignantly.

"You would say that though, wouldn't you?" He looked her up and down as if expecting to see tiny hearts floating around her body. Hermione brought her bag up to her chest protectively.

"Excuse me _sir_ ," Draco sneered. "But I will ask you to not make the lady uncomfortable with your leering. Now if you will excuse us," He moved past the man, Hermione following.

A hand shot out, snatching Hermione by the wrist. "Perhaps it would be safest if you'd stay with me"

Draco reacted without thinking. Whipping his wand out and pointing it straight at the man's chest, he growled, " _Don't_ touch her."

Hermione stepped between the two men, placing her hands on Draco's chest. "Malfoy, don't," she said quietly. Then, giving a scathing look to the man she added, "He's not worth your time."

"Fine," the man retorted. "You want to go crawling into bed with a snake, suit yourself."

Hermione whipped around, ignoring the guttural growl emanating from her companion. "There is no love potion, and no bed. But," she looked the man up and down, "better a snake than an inchworm. Come on Malfoy," she grabbed his arm and stalked away, oblivious to the shocked faces of both wizards.

"Granger, I told you-"Draco began when they reached the country house.

"Malfoy, it's fine. Really. Nothing I can't handle," Hermione waved dismissively.

"But you shouldn't have to handle it at all," Draco insisted. "You know that moron is going to go talk to his idiot friends."

"It's not the first time there have been rumors about me. It's just one of the perks of being part of the 'Golden Trio'" she air quoted the name, rolling her eyes.

Malfoy looked at her intently for a moment, then a slow smirk spread across his face. "Inchworm?"

Hermione giggled. "Well if he was going to sink down to the gutter, I figured I may as well join him."

"So was that supposed to be a compliment to my prowess?" He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

"Oh come on Malfoy, surely you realize that you're a far cry from ugly?" She said slyly.

Draco's jaw dropped. "I—uh-" he sputtered.

"Oh get over yourself," she laughed, smacking him on the arm. "Let's go check our notes."

Malfoy watched her leave the room. He smiled to himself. Today is a good day, he thought.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Lacewings

"Malfoy, take a look at this," Hermione called to the wizard across the room. For two weeks they had been preparing for their experiments to begin. First they had carefully prepped and stored various ingredients, deciding it best to have everything at the ready in case of last minute adjustments. As a precaution they had also brewed a variety of antidotes to have on hand. Today was their first attempt at brewing their own concoction, and Hermione was feeling that old excitement that she hadn't felt since Hogwarts.

Draco peered over her shoulder. "Hmm... Seems a bit unstable. Maybe we should add a bit of lacewing."

Hermione stared skeptically at the bubbling purple liquid in the cauldron. "Perhaps you're right. A pinch would be enough, don't you think?"

Draco shrugged. "I guess we'll see."

Hermione grabbed the jar labeled 'powdered lacewing' off the self and threw a pinch in the simmering potion. "This is exciting, isn't it?" She turned to Draco, beaming. "It just feels so adventurous, recklessly tossing in ingredients without instructions to follow."

He couldn't help but chuckle. She looked like an 11 year old, giddy with the prospect of starting magic lessons for the first time. "Granger, I'm shocked! Miss Goody Two Shoes is _excited_ about breaking the rules? I never thought I would live to see the day."

"There _are_ no rules, that's what's exciting!" She gushed, unable to help herself. "Besides,," she took on a fake haughty tone, "I broke the rules plenty of times."

"Oh really?" Draco asked, his eyebrow cocked skeptically.

"Yes really," Hermione said defiantly, trying desperately not to find his rakish look attractive.

"Ok Granger, spill it," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking. "When did you break the rules? And I don't mean the noble saving Potter's arse, it was all for the greater good Gryffindor nonsense. I mean real, honest to goodness rule breaking."

"Well," she began, wracking her brain. The first thing that came to mind was using a well placed confundus charm to ensure Ron's placement on the Quidditch team, but she really didn't want to tell him that, though she wasn't entirely sure why. "I snuck into the library after hours, and specifically the restricted section, quite a few times."

"Doesn't count," Draco said, waving his hand dismissively. "That's either homework or save the world related. Too goody goody. I want the dirt."

"Ok, ok!" She bit her bottom lip, thinking. Then a slow smile spread across her face. "I don't know if I should tell you."

"You mean because there is nothing to tell?" He teased.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, still smiling slyly. "Fine. Do you remember having to rewrite some essays third year?"

"I do actually. There were at least four parchments for Snape I had to rewrite after they disappeared." He turned to her in shock. "Did you _steal_ my homework?"

"No! No of course not! I would never do that! But I may have," she cleared her throat, trying to contain her grin,"charmed a few parchments to erase themselves after completion."

"That was you!? I thought Goyle was messing with me!" Draco cried, his eyes as big as saucers.

Hermione could no longer contain her laughter. "I'm sorry Malfoy. Really," she said through giggles.

"Yes, I can see the sincerity," he said sarcastically. "I'll have you know Snape took house points for those."

That only made her laugh harder. "Oh, come on. From you? The Slytherin Prince?"

"He did after the first two!" He retorted. He glared at her as she giggled harder. "Well I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

"I'm sorry," she said unconvincingly, trying to fight the smile that played on her lips. "Really, I am. Forgive me?"

He scowled. "All that extra writing could have strained my wand arm and seriously affected my performances in classes you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes, still trying to reign in her amusement.

"I saw that," he sulked.

"Please?" She gave him her best puppy dog eyes and stuck her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

Draco's resolve faltered. Slowly he grinned. "I didn't think you had it in you, Granger. I'm impressed."

"Why thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she drawled in her best Snape impression and flashed a dazzling smile. "You deserved it, you know. You were being a royal prat. Then of course there was the time I slapped you."

Draco chuckled. "That one I deserved, I'll admit."

"You did," she nodded solemnly. "So tell me," she said turning serious. "How much of that was an act?"

"What?" He asked, suddenly uncomfortable.

"The whole, better than everyone, King of the Gits bit? You're not like that now, and I had my suspicions about it in school. Quite a few times actually."

Draco sighed and sat in one of the chairs in their makeshift lab. "It's how I was raised, I suppose. Before I even stepped foot in Hogwarts, my father lectured me on who my friends should be. In my family's line of work, you can't trust anyone. So I couldn't either." He smiled sadly. "Being a little prick was just easier, and it was expected of me."

"Do you trust _me_?" Hermione asked, biting her lip nervously.

Draco looked up. His brow furrowed, unsure what to say. His mouth opened, but he couldn't seem to form words.

"I trust _you_ ," Hermione said, searching his grey eyes.

He could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. Once again he was in uncharted territory. He had never been one to open up about anything. But there was something about her that always got him to let his guard down in a way he never did to anyone. It was both terrifying and comforting. "But how can you trust me?" He asked in a pained voiced.

Hermione smiled kindly. "If I ask you something, will you answer truthfully? And to be fair, you can ask me any uncomfortable thing you want and I'll do the same. We'll have a very honest conversation. Deal?" She waited while Draco thought it over and nodded carefully. "Did you believe all the Pureblood superiority stuff you said during school?"

Draco looked down, unable to meet her eye. "I did at first."

"Why?"

He leaned back, running a hand through his blonde locks. He was sure this was the moment when she would come to her senses. "It's what I was taught. Only those with pure blood could truly master magic. I didn't know any muggleborns, so it made sense to me."

Hermione nodded. "And did you believe that all throughout school?"

"I was expected to," he answered.

"But did you?" She countered.

Draco sighed. "I tried to."

"But you questioned it?"

"I tried not to," he said morosely. "But I did."

"Did you ever tell your father?" She asked.

"When I came back first year," he nodded. "Father made some comment about all the muggleborns at the train station and how they had no right to be there. I said I met a few that seemed pretty skilled to me."  
Hermione looked down, smiling slightly to herself. Then more seriously, "You don't have to tell me what happened, but was he happy with what you said?"

Draco stiffened. "There were...repercussions."

"And do you think any of those things now?" She asked gently.

"What does it matter now? The damage is done," he said, pointing to his covered forearm.

"Of course it matters," she said. "If everyone was judged by what they did as a stupid teenager, no one would get anywhere in life."

"Well this is a pretty permanent stupid mistake," Draco mumbled, scowling at his arm.

"So do you believe it?" She asked again.

"No," he said simply.

"See? This is why I trust you," she said as if that cleared everything up. He gave her a skeptical look, so she continued. "Do you realize in this whole conversation you used the word 'muggleborn' and not 'mudblood'? You just said yourself you don't believe that rubbish anymore, even though your father and his associates would not be happy with that. And we have seen each other every day for nearly a month and you have yet to kill me for my insufferable ways," she joked.

Draco smirked. "You're not _that_ insufferable."

Hermione beamed. "And a compliment! Well sort of," she laughed. "The point is, you're too hard on had my back with Mr. Inchworm, don't think I didn't notice that. I appreciated it. Trust, Malfoy. It's what friends do."

Draco smiled despite himself. Friends. He wondered if she knew how much that word meant to him, especially coming from her. He suddenly needed her to know. There was an overwhelming urge to tell her how incredible she really was, how much she meant to him. But he knew that he couldn't. And he would be terrified to hear her response. He wouldn't do anything to jeopardize what they had now. Mustering up his courage he looked her in the eye. "I do trust you," he said quietly.

He watched as Hermione's face softened. A shy smile curved her lips and her eyes twinkled with a mixture of happiness and something else he couldn't quite place. "I'm glad," she answered.

"Granger," he began, unsure of what was going to follow. It was clear to him in this moment that his feelings ran much deeper than a simple infatuation. She took a step towards him and his breath hitched. Something moved behind her. It was the bubbling potion that had been all but forgotten. It was now a violent shade of purple and gurgling furiously. The almost tender moment was gone and his eyes widened nervously. "Granger!" She said again more urgently.

Hermione turned to see what he was starting at. She barely had time to register what she saw or why Draco was trying to grab her arm before the mixture erupted, spraying purple liquid everywhere.

Draco sprang forward, spinning Hermione towards him. The entire upper portion of her body was covered in purple goo. "Are you ok?" He asked, searching for any obvious wounds.

"I think we brewed it a little too long," she said meekly.

Malfoy burst out into a relieved laughter. "Ok, well you still have your sense of humor. Come here and let's check the damage." He took her hand and lead her a few steps away from the puddles of potion. With a flick of his wand he turned off the flames under the cauldron then turned to face her. Very carefully he began siphoning off the offending liquid, watching for anything out of the ordinary. When that was done he held up his hands, motioning to her face. "May I?" He asked.

Hermione swallowed and nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.

Slowly Draco put his hands on her face, feeling for fever, lingering magic, or injuries. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as his long fingers traced her forehead, trailing down her neck and under her chin. She willed herself not to gasp when his thumbs briefly brushed her lip before continuing to her cheeks, lingering there longer than was necessary. She barely noticed, and found that if anything she wished they would stay there.

Draco took a reluctant step back, swallowing hard and shaking his head slightly. He tried to use some of the Malfoy composure, hoping it would calm his breathing and rapid heartbeat. "Well there doesn't seem to be any sign of injury," he said more huskily than he had hoped. "How do you feel?"

"Er-" Hermione started uncertainly, biting her lip. Any adjective that came to mind now had little to do with the potion and everything to do with Draco's soft hands exploring her face. Her heart was still beating erratically. "Fine, I think," she said a bit breathlessly.

"You're glowing," Draco said with a curious look.

"Oh," Hermione said, embarrassed. Was her reaction to his touch that obvious?

"No, I mean you're literally glowing," he said stepping closer. He looked closely at her face. "More of a shimmer actually. It's rather pleasant, really."

Hermione touched her face gingerly. "I'm going to go—er—wash up and see if that helps," she said as she left the room.

As soon as she was gone Draco collapsed into one of the armchairs. Merlin he was in trouble. He closed his eyes, trying to will away thoughts of how close they had been and the feel of her velvety skin. Of course that was like saying don't think of a hippogriff then trying not to. It's all he could think about. His hand was still tingling from the caress of her skin.

Draco bolted straight up, horrified. Sweet Merlin he had caressed her skin! What was he thinking? Yes he had to check the affected area. He had witnessed Snape doing a similar check over that Finnegan bloke when his cauldron ended up in his face, but he could have done it in a more professional manner. He hardly thought Snape brushed his thumb over Finnegan's lips. And even more likely he didn't then tell him the after effect looked pleasant.

Groaning, he cast a quick scourgify around the room. Maybe she hadn't noticed, he thought pitifully. Surely she would have said something if she had.

"Well I don't know about a healing potion," Hermione said as she came back into the room, "but I think we just made a dandy of a skin product!"

Draco looked up. Sure enough, she was shimmering everywhere the potion had touched. He found it quite...stunning. "Uh-" was all he managed.

"Not exactly what I'd like to be known for, but I suppose it couldn't hurt to keep the notes of how we did it," she said walking over to her quill to write the results.

"Did any of it touch your scar? Is it reaction the same?" He asked when he came back to his senses.

"No," she said disappointed. "I checked, it was covered. Did you save any?"

"Already scourgified."

"Well then, on to the next!" She said brightly.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Breakdown

"Hey!" Draco yelled after a pillow landed on his chest.

"Come on Malfoy! No sleeping on the job!" Hermione chided. "We've got to finish this up so it will be ready for you to test tomorrow."

It was Sunday night. Hermione had lost her opalescence sometime after midnight the night before, much to her relief. As pleasant as the effect may have been, she really hadn't liked the idea of sparkling behind the desk of Flourish and Blotts all day. Even less appealing was the thought that she would be working from 8 am to midnight there for the next two days. Two months ago she had agreed to cover Oliver's shift while he attended an herbology conference in France. At the time she hadn't thought twice about agreeing, but now she wished she had made an excuse. In fact, she may have done so after she and Draco had started working together if she had remembered. Somehow she had lost all track of time. If Oliver hadn't owled her this morning to remind her, she would have been in for a very rude surprise tomorrow.

"I know, Granger," Draco grumbled. He had not been happy when Hermione had told him of her impending absence. His Malfoy stoicism had thankfully saved him from what would likely have been a rather embarrassing display of disappointment bordering on heartache. The only thing that made him feel slightly better was the fact that Hermione seemed just as displeased as he was. Mumbling something about not sleeping much, he shut the book he was referencing and stood up.

"Sorry," Hermione said with a sigh. "I'm just annoyed with the thought of two 16 hour days at the store." Although that was true, it wasn't the only reason for her sour mood. She had gotten used to the routine of seeing Draco every day, the idea of two days without that bothered her. She had come to enjoy his sarcastic wit and thrived on their animated discussions. In short, she had become rather attached to the blonde Slytherin chopping fluxweed beside her. And after last night, she couldn't stop thinking of him gently caressing her face. The touch was so soft, yet electrifying. Never could she remember being so affected by such a simple gesture. Viktor had been downright oafish, and Ron had always been rather clumsy and the awkwardness had never fully gone away. But Malfoy...

"This should do it," Draco said as he threw in the final bit of fluxweed into their new concoction. "If it's anything like the one we are modifying, it will need to simmer for at least an hour."

"Great! Let's sit and go over the potion screening techniques again," Hermione led the way to the armchairs. While at St. Mungo's she had worked in many different departments. Since she was a quick study, she was used as a fill in person, going to whichever department needed an extra pair of hands at the time. In the beginning she spent a lot of time on the floors tending to the injured, but as their potion reserves dwindled she had spent quite a bit of time screening the potions that had come in on donation for poisons and toxicity levels. Some well meaning people sent in homebrews that needed to be tweaked to get rid of what could have been rather unpleasant side effects.

"We've already been through them five times," Draco said with a groan as he plopped himself down unceremoniously.

"You know what they say, 6th times a charm!" She smiled brightly.

"I know no one that says that," Draco said sarcastically.

"Well you do now," she said with a curt nod.

"The word insufferable comes to mind," he grumbled.

Hermione shot him a glare. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

Draco smiled. Squabbling with her was one of his favorite past times. "Oh come on, Granger, you know you're going to miss my sparkling personality over the next two days."

Hermione snorted. "Sparkling? Asinine maybe. Definitely snarky."

"You wound me, Granger," Draco said, placing a dramatic hand over his heart.

"You'll survive," she said with amusement.

"Spoken like a true Healer," he laughed.

"Yes, well, you'll have to forgive me. I didn't spend a lot of time in the bruised ego ward," she retorted.

"Well I can see why with that attitude," he quipped. "The poor ego patients would wilt under your sarcasm."

"I'll have you know I have never had any patient _wilt_ ," she laughed. "That sarcasm is saved especially for you."

"I'm honored," Draco chuckled. He looked at her curiously. "Why did you leave?"

"Leave?" she asked, clearly suddenly ill at ease.

"Come on, Granger, you owe me one uncomfortable conversation. Why did you leave St. Mungo's?"

Hermione sighed. "I was hoping you'd forgotten that."

"I'm a Slytherin, remember?" He said with a smirk. "We don't forget things like that."

The brown hair witched sunk deeper into her chair. "Well...I mean after the war it only seemed natural. So many people were injured and I just thought enough people had died already, so I went there to help. They needed all the people they could get. At first I really didn't have time to think. I was so busy during my shift that I barely had time to register when we lost another patient, because it was on to the next. There was always a next. And when I was done, I was exhausted and would go home and collapse. But as time wore on and the influx of patients slowed, there was—there was too much time to think. I would pass by beds and this time, I would remember death. And then I would remember—other things. It just got to the point where I was reliving the war every day and I just needed it to stop." She looked down, ashamed. "Sounds selfish, I know."

Draco's face softened. "No, it doesn't. No one should relive that day after day. It's not healthy. And you are by far the least selfish person I have ever met."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks."

They sat in companionable silence for a minute before Draco yawned loudly. Hermione laughed. "Why don't I go make us some coffee while we wait for the potion?"

"Good idea," Draco said through another yawn.

Hermione busied herself in the quaint kitchen, marveling again at how much she liked the house. The cupboards were a bright, cheery white that complimented the sand colored counter. There was a window above the sink framed by a cornflower blue curtain that looked out over the meadow. The whole place gave off the feel of a beloved country cottage. It was hard to believe the elder Malfoy's ever owned such a modest abode. This, she thought, was the kind of place where one would raise a happy family, not the dark regalness of the Manor. Before thoughts of that awful place could consume her, she quickly finished the coffee and hurried out.

"Just black, right?" She asked as she walked back in the lab. Hermione stopped short, and shook her head smiling. Draco was slumped over in his chair, sleeping peacefully. Setting the cups down, she sank into the chair across from him. He looked so at ease should couldn't bare to wake him. Smiling at the sleeping Slytherin, she grabbed a book and waited for their timer.

* * *

Draco woke with a start. The lights were off. Hermione must have finished up and gone home. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. His nightmares had been awful for the last four days, and all together he had maybe gotten eight hours of sleep total over the span of them.

Groaning, he sat up. Now he would have to endure two days with nothing but his nightmares for company. Strange how just six weeks ago that was his normal. He had had years to himself, and now the thought of two days seemed unbearable. Pushing his blanket aside, he stood up.

Blanket?

Draco looked around. As his eyes adjusted, he could see he was in a bedroom. Had Granger levitated him to his room?

And then he heard it.

"No," he whispered to himself, hoping his mind was playing tricks on him. Then it happened again, the blood curdling scream that ripped through to his very soul.

"Hermione!" He screamed and bolted out the door.

The black hallway of the Manor greeted him with despair. He dove down the hall, running to where he knew would find the source of the screams. The darkness stretched out endless in front of him.

"Stop! Please!" He heard Hermione pant in anguish.

"Hermione!" Draco yelled again, frantically running his hands along the never ending wall, searching for a door to no avail. The scream escalated again, echoing through the corridor.

Finally there was a break in the wall, and Draco dove for it. "Hermione! I'm coming!" He yelled, flinging himself around another corner. He stopped short, coming face to face with a looming figure framed in platinum hair.

"Father?" He whispered, his heart pounding.

"It's too late," Lucius sneered. "You're Mudblood is gone."

"No," Draco breathed. "She can't be."

"It's too late, son. One less Mudblood in the world," Lucius spat.

"I'M NOT YOUR SON!" Draco bellowed, throwing his weight against his father, pushing him out of the way and barreling down the hall past him.

Screaming tore through the air again, more horrible than the last. In a panic Draco ran through the maze of blackness. His heart was beating out of his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He knew she couldn't last much longer. He had to get to her.

"Hermione!" He called again, searching desperately for any sign of light. "Hermione!" He shouted again.

An agonizing, bone chilling cry sounded all around him, encompassing him in an aura of terror. It was more horrible, more inhuman than anything he had ever heard. Was that the end, he wondered? He dropped to his knees, tears beginning to slowly trickle down his face. "Please, no," he whispered into the silence, willing her to be alive.

"Draco!" Came a strangled voice.

His head shot up. "Hermione!" Forcing himself up, he ran again, ignoring the tearing breaths ripping their way through his lungs.

Ahead the blackness gave way to light. Redoubling his speed, he dashed ahead. He burst through the entryway of the parlor, panting, frantically searching. And then he saw it. A huddled mass lay unmoving on the floor.

"Hermione," he gasped. Please be alive, he thought. He stumbled forward, forcing himself to keep breathing.

"Sorry nephew," Bellatrix cackled, stepping out from the shadows. "That's as far as you go." With the flick of her wand, a cage materialized around him.

"No!" He yelled, slamming into the bars. Frantically he searched for his wand, already knowing there was no point.

Cackling again, Bellatrix held up a hawthorn wand. "Looking for this?"

"Please," Draco begged. "Let her go. Take me instead!"

Malicious laughter rang out. "Aww, poor little nephew is in l _ove_ with a Mudblood."

"Draco," Hermione moaned from the floor. His heart leapt. She was alive.

"Please, aunt," he begged. "Please let her go!"

"Sorry Drakey Wakey," Bellatrix said in a mock pout. "You know I can't do that. CRUCIO!"

Draco thrashed at the bars, watching helplessly as Hermione screamed and contorted hideously in pain. "Hermione!" He cried, clawing through the bars desperately trying to reach her.

"No nephew of mine will be a blood traitor!" Bellatrix's eyes were wild with fury. "Avada Kedavra!"

"NO!" Draco screamed, sinking to his knees. He stared unbelieving through his tears. Hermione did not move. She was gone.

"Draco!"

His head shot up, tears still streaming down. He looked back to her lifeless form.

"Draco!"

Finally Draco was wrenched free of his dream. He sat up, gasping for air. "Where is she?" He choked, wildly searching the room.

"Draco," Hermione said in a shaky voice, kneeling in front of him. "Look at me. You were dreaming. There is one else here. Just me."

His head snapped around, eyes still wild. He looked at her, disbelieving, starting at her tear streaked face. "Hermione?" He whispered.

Hermione gave a watery smile. "It's me."

Draco shook his head. "She killed you. I—I couldn't," his voice caught. "I'm sorry," he said, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"No," Hermione took his hand. "I'm ok. I'm here."

He looked down at her touch in shock. Slowly he raised his hand, gently wiping a tear off her cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. Reaching forward, he drew her into him, hugging her fiercely. Her arms slipped around his neck, holding him as he sobbed into her shoulder.

"It's ok now," Hermione comforted through her own tears, clinging to him as much as he was to her.

"I'm so sorry," he said again, sobs wracking his body.

They stayed locked together, swaying slightly, for a long time. Neither of them said anything more, and the didn't need to. Hermione knew all too well what he was reliving. How many times had she woken from the same dream?

Finally Draco's breathing began to calm. His body began to relax. He stayed for a moment, relishing in her embrace before shame began to wash over him.

"Sorry about that," he said relaxing his hold and backing away. "I shouldn't have-"

"Don't," Hermione said firmly.

"What?" He asked, perplexed.

"Don't you dare apologize Draco Malfoy," she said, grabbing him by the shoulders. "You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, so don't you dare leave me and hide behind that Malfoy mask of indifference."

Draco let out a shuddery breath. "Ok."

Hermione reached up, wiping away a few stray tears from his cheek. "Do you know how many times I have woken up in tears? One of these days you'll be returning the favor, mark my words. I'm glad I was here, because I know how awful it is to wake from that alone." She smiled sadly. "And just so you know, I dream about that day every single night, and not once have I ever held you to blame for any of it."

Draco sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. New tears leaked out. "I don't deserve you, Hermione," he whispered.

She pulled him into another hug. "I'm not going anywhere, Draco."

Hermione released him and stood up. Pointing her wand at the armchair she muttered, "Engorgio."

"What are you doing?" Draco asked nervously.

"I thought maybe you wouldn't want to be alone." She bit her lip and looked at him. He gave the tiniest shake of his head. Nodding, she climbed onto the newly enlarged chair, now more like a futon. Patting the area next to her she said, "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

Draco hesitated for a fraction of a second, then climbed next to her, laying on his back. He accioed a blanket, then smoothed it over the two of them. Hermione swished her wand, flicking out the lights. "Good night Draco."

"Good night Hermione."

No more nightmares would come that night.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I just wanted to thank you all for the follows, favorites and reviews! Seriously amazing! You guys are fantastic. Sorry for t** **he delay for this one. I have a bit of an internal debate going omn. I have two ideas rolling around my head for the quintessential Dramione moment. I had one all planned out, and then this new idea popped into my head, and they seem to be battling it out. Anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 12: Reflection

Early the next morning, Hermione awoke to the vibrations of her wand. As she did every morning, she quickly stopped the charm she had set the previous night. Ordinarily she got up quickly, usually already half awake from the horrible dreams that had come. Now, however, all she wanted to do was snuggle back under the blanket. For the first time in years she had slept fitfully.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. It took a moment to remember where she was. Blinking rapidly, a white blonde head came into focus. She smiled. Draco lay sleeping peacefully in front of her, his arm stretched out towards her. To her surprise, their fingers were interlaced.

Hermione lay there, drinking in the sight. He looked so innocent lying there, his hair falling over his face. Without thinking she reached over with her free hand and brushed the strands aside. Seeing him so at ease now, it was hard to believe the panic of last night was real. But it was. The carefully constructed walls he built had come crashing down with a vengeance.

Looking at him now with her hand in his, she realized everything had changed. If she were honest with herself, things had changed weeks ago, but after last night she could no longer fool herself. Seeing Draco in such a state had nearly broken her. She knew that feeling of terror all too well, and she couldn't bare to see it happening to him. Over this past month they had gotten close. She had finally seen the real Draco under that public mask, and she like him. A lot. Seeing him so raw and exposed had shattered the denial she had been clinging to. There was no going back now.

When she had first heard him whimpering in his sleep, she thought nothing of it. Her experience as a healer had taught her that nearly everyone that had even slightly been involved in the war had sleep disturbances to a certain degree. Most of the time the person wasn't bothered enough to even remember the dream in the morning. But as she watched Draco, she could tell this would not be the case for him. His faced had looked pained, his breathing rapid. Soon he had begun thrashing about with such an intensity she knew she had to intervene. But she hadn't been able to wake him up. For ten minutes she shook him, first gently then forcefully. He had been trapped in whatever horror he was reliving, and it broke her heart. He was clearly terrified, tears were already streaming down his face. She had wondered which trauma he was stuck in. Then he said her name.

Her name.

At first Hermione thought she had misheard him. Then it happened again, louder. A moment later he was practically yelling it, completely frantic. She had yelled back him for quite some time before he finally woke up thinking he had witnessed her murder. She had wanted to take him in her arms, but hadn't been sure how he would react having just thought she was dead. When he hugged her, she had held onto him for all that she was worth. He was comforting her as much as she was him. It touched her, that he showed that side to her. She knew very well that that kind of thing did not come easily for him. In fact, from what Sirius had told her about his Pureblood family, showing that kind of emotion was considered a weakness and would likely be punished. So she had to make sure that he didn't feel like his outburst changed the way she looked at him.

Very carefully, Hermione extracted her hand from his. As slowly as she could, she slid out from under the blanket, taking care to tuck it back around the sleeping Slytherin. Hurriedly she gathered her things, then took out a scrap of parchment and wrote a quick note.

 _Draco,_

 _I will see you bright and early Wednesday morning! If that twit can force me into two full days at the store, he can certainly handle one day on his own. Good luck with the screening today! You know where to find me if anything interesting happens!_

 _See you soon!_  
 _Hermione_

She read the note through several times before deciding it was good enough. It sounded like normal banter, and assured him that she would see him again soon. Quietly, she snuck back over to lay the paper on the table next to Draco where he would be sure to find it. Smiling once again at his peaceful form, she tiptoed out of the house.

* * *

Draco stared at the sandwich in front of him. It was only noon, yet he felt like it had been much longer. It was stupid, of course. Ordinarily it would be hours before Hermione arrived, but somehow knowing that wouldn't happen today made time move in slow motion.

No matter how much he tried to block it out, the events of the previous night kept replaying in his head. A huge part of him was mortified, the rest of him in a state of shock. He could not have been more unmasculine. In his dreams he had never before seen Hermione's death. He had heard the screams stop and assumed the worst, but this time he had watched the life leave her body and he had come unglued. He wasn't sure how long he had sobbed into her shoulder, but it was certainly far too long for what would be considered a normal reaction, if such a thing existed.

Part of him was glad that he didn't have to face her today. What does one say to the person who witnessed your nervous breakdown over their dream induced death? 'Gee Hermione, I'm sorry for any broken bones you may have suffered due to my panicked clutching and for any hair you may have lost when I nearly inhaled your head during my massive sobbing fit, but golly it's great to see you alive."

Draco groaned and put his head down on the table. Merlin, he had made a fool of himself. He had all but told her how much she meant to him. He couldn't even dare to hope she hadn't made the connection, because what else would make of someone blubbering over your death? Perhaps if he was lucky she would assume it was just the trauma from witnessing Bellatrix's handiwork. Then again, when was he ever lucky?

 _I'm not going anywhere Draco._

The phrase flitted through his head. He smiled. Maybe it was just that damn Malfoy pride getting him worked up. She had stayed, after all. She held him without hesitation, tears in her own beautiful eyes. And she had been the one to suggest that she stay the night. Somehow she knew he needed it and anticipated it.

Of course she knew, it dawned on him. He had been so caught up in his own embarrassment he had nearly forgotten what she had said. She dreamt of it every night.

The thought cut through him like a knife. Hermione relived that terror every night. It was the very thing he had feared, the thing that spurred his decision to seek her out. She had told him that she didn't blame him, but he knew without the shadow of a doubt that it was his fault. He should have figured out a way to throw Bellatrix off track. Maybe she would have just banished them to the cellar to hold them prisoner instead of inflicting torture. It may have been possible to aid their escape before Potter's scar became evident again. He should have done more.

Angrily he threw his half eaten sandwich in the trash. He would make it up to her. Somehow, some way, he was determined to make it up to her. Even if it took years and she had long since realized that he wasn't worth her time, he would find a way.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: A Night to Remember

"Have a nice night!" Hermione called cheerily to the last customers of the day. She managed to hold the smile until the door shut, then her face fell with a sigh. It had been two incredibly long days. Thank goodness Oliver had agreed to take her shift the next day. She didn't think she could handle coming in again so soon after so many hours work with so little sleep. Sighing again, she began to do the closing preparations for the store.

As it did so often over the past two days, Hermione's mind wandered to Draco. She hadn't had time to owl him. The school shopping season had started, and customers were nearly constant. She also hadn't received one from him, not that she thought she would. She wondered how the potion screenings had gone, and more importantly how he was doing. What she had witnessed was certainly not something that would easily be forgotten by either of them. Those kinds of dreams stick with you for days. And most of all, she worried about what was going through his head about her baring witness to his distraught. Though he had obviously changed a great deal, he was still a Malfoy. Emotions were expected to be kept in check in that family. He was probably worried she would think less of him. Oh, if only he realized that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Well, she thought, she would just have to make her point again tomorrow. Tomorrow, she smiled as she walked to the door. She would see him again tomorrow. As she locked the door behind her, memoreis flooded back. She remembered the way he had touched her when he came out of the dream, their embrace, their intertwined hands in the morning, and who's death he thought he saw that had gotten him so upset. She tried not to see any meaning behind it, but it was hard not to hope.

"I thought that was you," a voice drawled behind her.

Hermione whipped around, staring into a familiar scowling face. "Inchworm," she whispered to herself.

"Still sleeping in the bed of snakes, or did the love potion wear off?" The man sneered.

"There is no love potion," Hermione said in exasperation. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

The wizard stepped in front of her. "Don't tell me you're going to see the Death Eater."

"First of all," she said huffily, "he is not a Death Eater. Perhaps if you knew how to read you would have picked up on that fact. Second of all, it is none of your business where I am going or who I am spending my time with. Now move out of my way.

"Don't you know what they've done? How many people they've killed?" he spat.

"Death Eaters did those things, and as we have already been through a number of times, _he_ is not one of them," Hermione said, once again trying to move past him.

The man scoffed. "The Dark Mark in on his arm. He is a direct relation to the worst of them. I've heard the rumors, read the papers." He leaned forward and whispered darkly, "You were in their Manor, weren't you?"

The blood drained from Hermione's face. Her heartbeat quickened. She wanted to fire off a witty retort, but her mouth was suddenly very dry.

The wizard leaned back, nodding. "That's what I thought. I had a friend once. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Just wanted to pick up a bottle of wine for a gift. Ran into your boyfriend's aunt and her cronies. Care to take a guess what happened to him?"

Hermione shook her head, trying desperately to regain control of herself.

"She tortured him," he continued. "Just because she could, just because he was there and she was in a foul mood. Crucio after crucio until his body gave out. I was two stores down and heard the screams. And you willingly hang around with that slime?"

Clenching her hands to stop them from trembling she said, "Draco is not his aunt."

"They're cut from the same cloth!" He fired viciously. "You of all people should know!" He lowered his voice, leaning in once more. "How long were you tortured? Did your boyfriend try to save you?" He paused, watching her rapid breathing. "I thought not."

"You know NOTHING!" Hermione snapped. "You were not there. Don't you dare stand there giving me some grand speech about the way things are when you don't have to slightest clue. I realize that it might be too much for your feeble mind to handle, but everything is not black and white. There were Death Eaters who came from families with absolutely no ties to the dark arts, and people who ran from their dark families and fought with the light. In case you didn't notice, and judging by the intelligence you have shown thus far I would say it's a safe bet you didn't, that was the whole bloody point of the war! Blood does name make a person better or worse. People make their own choices and it's about time you get your head out of your arse and see that!" She forcefully pushed past the wizard, moving quickly down the road before turning on the spot.

Moments later she was standing in her flat, heart racing. On instinct she intensified the wards already set and did a quick search thought her rooms.

'Calm down', she told herself.' Don't let him get to you.' Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths. A cup of tea is what she needed. That man was trying to make her break, and she couldn't allow it.

Absently she filled her favorite cup with water, charmed it to the right temperature and tossed in her tea bag. Hermione supped the soothing liquid, trying to clear the images of torture from her head.

Why did that stupid man have to be there? And why did he have to bring up that woman? She had been having a perfectly boring day until _he_ showed up. She chided herself for having any reaction at all. This is exactly what he wanted. That was years ago now, and she was dead. Dead! Why couldn't she just get over it already, she thought, almost breaking her tea cup by slamming it in the sink. Determined not to let him win, she changed into her pajamas and got into bed.

* * *

Draco cast a quick tempus. 2:43 am. It had been fifteen minutes since the last time he checked. He had been laying there starting at the ceiling for nearly three hours. In a few more hours Hermione would be there, and he was nervous. He wasn't sure how to act after his breakdown. He wasn't sure how _she_ would act. Would she pretend the whole thing never happened? Would she expect a discussion? Would she even be able to look him in the eye?

Draco wasn't entirely sure which option would be worse. As a Malfoy, he was trained in the art of pretending nothing happened. But that would also mean the more...tender moments never happened either, and he had yet to decide if that was something he was willing to give up. A discussion would delve into areas that would probably make him look even more like a lovesick fool. And well, if she couldn't even look him in the eye he didn't know what he would do. It would be like a dagger to the heart. Not that he would blame her after the display he put on.

With a sigh, he grabbed his wand and got out of bed to make himself a cup of tea. Perhaps something warm would be enough to lull him to sleep so he could stop worrying for a few hours.

He had just reached the kitchen when he heard a familiar popping sound. On instinct he whispered _nox_ and crept towards the door. Pressing his ear to the door, he listened, his heart racing. Mentally he went through the list of Death Eaters that were still unaccounted for. The list was thankfully short now, and he was almost certain even the highest ranking of them didn't know of this cabin's existence. Taking a deep breath, he threw open the door and was immediately frozen in shock.

Standing on his doorstep clad only in blue pajama bottoms and a black tank top stood Hermione Granger. Draco just stood there, unsure if what he was seeing was real.

Hermione swallowed, looking up at him with watery eyes. "It's your turn," she whispered.

Without another word Draco stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Sobs began to shake her body as she clung to him.

"Shhh, it's ok," Draco whispered, stroking her hair. "Come on, let's go sit." Grabbing her hand, he led the way to the sofa. Gently he sat them down and leaned back, once again wrapping his arms around her. They sat like that for a long time, Hermione curled into his side while he held her, resting his cheek on her head. Eventually the sobs began to stop. Slowly she looked up.

"Thanks," she said, giving him a weak smile.

"No problem," he answered, wiping away a few stray tears from her cheek.

She laid her head back on his shoulder. "It was that man," she whispered. "The one from outside the apothecary."

Hermione could feel his whole body tense. "What did he do?" He asked darkly.

"No, nothing like that," she said sitting up to look him in the eye. "Nothing much really. He just sort of showed up when I was closing up the shop. He was behind me and started in with the normal stay away from him nonsense, but then he mentioned B-Bellatrix and how she tortured his friend to death. I tried to block it out before I went to bed, but-" Tears were running down her cheeks again. "Oh Draco, it was awful," she whispered. "It was like the whole thing was happening again, but this time when she was done with me, she moved on to you. Then I woke up, and I just—I'm sorry I came here to late, but I just couldn't be there anymore."

Draco looked at her seriously. "Don't apologize. You can come here any time, day or night, ok? I don't care if you think I am sleeping, I will wake up. I know how awful it is to deal with that alone," he smiled. His face quickly darkened. "But I am going to find that asshole and-"

"No!" Hermione cut him off, placing her hand on his chest. "Really, he didn't even do anything. It was just that name... Besides, then you would just be proving his point for him. Really Draco, don't, okay?"

"Fine," he grumbled, looking down in a huff. His breath caught in his throat. Her arm. She always had it covered, but now it was in full view.

Tentatively Draco reached, gently taking her arm in his hand. He felt her stiffen slightly, but she didn't pull away. Slowly he moved his hand to touch the letters emblazoned there. His fingertips caressed the scar with a feather light touch, shooting shivers up and down her spine.

Draco raised his head, looking deeply into her eyes almost pleadingly. "You know this doesn't mean anything, " he said in a near whisper, laying a hand over the cursed word.

Reaching forward, Hermione gently took his arm and mimicked his gesture, placing her hand over the Dark Mark. "Neither does this."

His heart was racing as he searched her chocolate eyes. She meant it. Every word. He wasn't sure how he had managed to finally receive a bit of luck, but he wasn't about to let it slip by. He couldn't anymore.

Draco brushed a curl off her brow and trailed his hand down to cup her cheek. For a moment he was overcome by her beauty, the way her eyes shone with intelligence and strength, the way her hair cascaded down her shoulders and perfectly framed her face, the way her lips—oh her lips. He leaned forward, tilting his head slightly, watching for a sign of rejection that would never come. He saw her close her eyes a second before he followed suit. Gently, his lips brushed hers. He paused, opening his eyes to gauge her reaction. She smiled and he moved in again, kissing tenderly. Slowly their lips moved together, relishing in each others touch. Their kiss deepened, passionate yet tender. Their tongues explored, tracing each others lips, sweeping their mouths in a sensual dance. It was a kiss unlike anything Draco had ever experienced.

After what seemed an eternity, they broke apart. Hermione smiled and rested her forehead against his. "I missed you."

Draco sighed contentedly. "I missed you too." He sat back, looking into her face. "Stay," he breathed. "I mean, I'm not expecting—we don't have to—certainly not yet—just...stay?"

Hermione nodded. "I don't want to be alone," she said sheepishly.

He smiled and transfigured the couch as she had three nights previously. She climbed in as he accioed the blanket and pillows, then moved in beside her. This time she moved in close, her back against his side. He rolled over and put a cautious hand on her side.

"Good night Draco," she said, pulling his arm around her.

"Good night Hermione." He smiled to himself. So this is what it was like to be happy.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So sorry for the delay everyone! I am a proud autism Mom, and our sleep schedule suddenly got massively upended by strep throat. Hopefully we can get back on schedule here and then it will be easier to post. Until then I apologize for any long delays. I finally got this one up, so yippee! Oh, and a big thank you to you all for reading and following and reviewing. Makes my whole day! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 14: Surprise Guest

Beams of sunlight rained down on the couple on the couch. They were peaceful laying there together, nothing but the sounds of rhythmic breathing filling the air. Ever so slowly, a pair of steel grey eyes opened.

Masses of brown burls greeted Draco as he awoke. A broad grin spread across his face. So it was real after all. Reaching out a tentative hand, he brushed the hair off Hermione's cheek. Everything had been so sudden and unexpected last night, a part of him fully believed this to be a very pleasant hallucination. One minute he was terrified of her rejection, and the next thing he knew his tongue was down her throat. Funny how things could change so quickly, he mused.

Perhaps too quickly.

She had been upset last night. That blasted man had cornered her and brought up things that had triggered a nightmare. She had been seeking comfort, and maybe he had taken advantage of that. What if she woke up and was embarrassed or downright horrified by what had happened? He was still Draco Malfoy after all, the ferret who had bullied her for years. How could she _not_ regret that? Yes she had responded to the kiss, but people who were traumatized could do stupid things. He certainly had in the past. And yes she had said she missed him, but he could say the same thing to Blaise if he showed up at his doorstep, and he would certainly not be happy to wake up with him in his bed the next morning.

Draco was just starting to contemplate his exit strategy when the witch began to stir. He froze. A million different scenarios ran through his head. He could apologize for taking advantage of her, maybe blame he was drunk. Was there fire whiskey in the house? Maybe he could nonchalantly levitate the bottle within view...

Hermione rolled over and gave him a sleepy smile. "Hi," she said. Then catching the look on his face she propped herself up slightly on her elbow and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said a little too quickly.

"Draco," she said, sighing. "Tell me. What's wrong?"

They Slytherin looked down, swallowing nervously. "Listen, I know that you were a bit vulnerable last night, and I'm sorry if I-" he was cut off as his lips were covered with hers. His eyes widened in surprise.

"I don't regret kissing you, if that's what you're worried about," she said with a smile.

"Oh."

"Oh Merlin, do you?" She asked, horrified.

"No!" He said vehemently. "No, I don't."

Hermione relaxed visibly. "Oh good. That would have been awkward."

"You're telling me," Draco laughed nervously.

"To be honest, I've sort of been hoping for that for a while now," she said shyly.

"Really?" He asked, surprised.

"What can I say, I"ve been taken over by the charms of the Prince of Slytherin," she said in a mock regal voice.

Draco smirked. "Ah, so the love potion finally took affect. Ow!" He chuckled as she smacked him in the chest. "Well that's no way to treat a prince."

Hermione threw him a playful scowl. "Well it's good to see your arrogance is intact.

"So is your right hook," he quipped.

She giggled, reaching out to touch his cheek. "I never did apologize for that. Sorry," she smiled.

Draco shook his head. "I had it coming."

"You did," she laughed.

The smile slowly faded from his face. "Hermione-"

"Draco," she cut him off, cupping his face in her hand. "Listen to me. It's in the past. We were both different people then. It doesn't matter now."

"How can you say that when you just had a run in with one of my...admirers last night?" He asked sadly.

"Because he doesn't know you. And I'd like to think that I do."

"You do," he said softly. "Better than anyone has."

Hermione smiled. "So then listen to me when I say that I like you, and I am more than happy with this," she said, moving closer and taking his hand.

"I am too, but I am also concerned about the backlash for you." He sighed. "I'm used to being looked at like scum, but I don't want more people like that idiot yesterday coming after you."

"And I appreciate that. I do. But I don't care about that. I can handle it. So unless you are second guessing this, you're stuck with me."

Draco looked down at their interlaced fingers, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm just not accustomed to good things happening to me," he said, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of her hand.

Hermione arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh? So I'm a good thing?"

Without hesitation he drew her close. Lowering his face to mere centimeters from hers he whispered, "Yes." He heard her quiet gasp before he gently pressed his lips to hers. It was again unlike anything Draco had ever experienced. He had of course kissed before, even passionately, but this was so much more than the meaningless flings of his youth. There was a depth here that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

After great length the broke apart. Draco rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. "Yeah, definitely a good thing."

"You haven't seen anything yet," Hermione smirked, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

Draco's eyes widened. "You minx! And here I am trying to be a gentleman."

Hermione laughed. "How very considerate of you."

"I just don't want you to regret anything," he said quietly.

She frowned slightly. "I'm not going to."

A sad smile crossed his lips. "I hope not."

Hermione kissed him again, snuggling into his arms. "I won't."

Draco held her in his arms, hoping against hope that she was right. After his many failed attempts at helping with the war clean up, he had all but given up on having even one civil conversation, much less a real friendship. Anything beyond that had seemed ludicrous to even dream about. Now here he was entering into a romantic relationship. It was not something he wanted to give up if he could help it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the rumbling of Hermione's stomach. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "The store has been so busy, I really haven't eaten since before I went in yesterday."

"Yesterday morning?" He asked, surprised.

Hermione nodded. "It was packed straight through until closing time. And with Oliver at the conference, I just didn't have time."

Draco scowled. That Oliver git really got on his nerves. "Isn't there anyone else that could have taken over?"

Hermione shrugged. "That's one of the reasons why I was hired. The owners had to leave for the summer to tie up some legalities over some family estate out of the country. Ordinarily we would have Tabitha as well, but she was accepted into an apprenticeship a couple months ago and can only do the weekends. So that just left the two of us."

"In that case, why don't I make us some breakfast?" Draco offered. "Eggs?"

"That sounds lovely," she murmured into his chest. "Should I put coffee on?"

"Sure," he smiled.

Together they padded out into the kitchen. Draco couldn't help but relish the very domestic atmosphere. It wasn't something he experienced often growing up. In the Malfoy house you were to be up and dressed properly before entering the dining room for breakfast. Once seated at the very long table, one of their house elves brought them a plate. It was all very formal. This was different. He watched her hum to herself while rummaging through the cupboards for the coffee, hair a mess in her pajamas, him in his own while he whipped up some eggs. It was all so...cozy.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped after extracting the coffee can. "In all the excitement I forgot to ask! What did you find out with the potion scans?"

Draco set two plates on the table. "Everything seems safe. No toxins showed, there doesn't seem to be any hazardous interactions of any sort. We should be able to start testing any time."

"Excellent!" She beamed. "But honestly, I think I may be a bit worked out at the moment. Can we do it later today? Just enjoy the morning a bit?"

Draco scoffed. "You? Sick of work? I never thought I would see the day."

"There's a first time for everything," she said, setting the steaming mugs down and snaking her hands around his waist.

His arms slipped around her in turn. It still didn't seem real. This woman, whom he had wished for for longer than he ever allowed himself to admit, was willingly in his arms. Slowly he brought his hand up from her shoulder and resolutely poked her in the cheek.

"Ow!" Hermione gasped. "Draco! What was that for?"

He gave a lopsided grin. "Just making sure this was real."

She stared at him in shock for a moment, then burst out into a fit of laughter. "It is a bit surreal, isn't it?"

He snorted. "A bit?"

"Ok, a lot. But in a good way," she answered.

Draco's arms wrapped around her again. "A very good way."

They stood together for a moment before Hermione sighed. "You know, I just realized that I don't have any clothes here. I woke up in a panic and came straight over."

"Well I don't mind," Draco grinned devilishly.

"What happened to being a gentleman?" She teased.

He shrugged. "It comes and goes."

With another playful smack to his chest they sat down to eat. "I'll go change after this."

"If you wanted, you could borrow something of mine," he said as casually as he could muster. This morning had been going so well, there was a part of him that was sure the bubble would burst as soon as she left the house and everything would fall apart.

"Ok," she said smiling.

The rest of the day breezed by. After a leisurely morning, which stretched out well into the afternoon, they went to work testing their potions. Nothing of any significance came from them, though one concoction added a slight sense of numbing the affected area for about 30 seconds. Neither of them minded their lack of results. They were enjoying the simple affections they could bestow; a hand placed on a shoulder while looking over the notes, a peck on the cheek as they walked past. Before either of them knew it, it was eleven o'clock at night.

Hermione groaned when she caught sight of the clock. "I should head out. I have to go back to work tomorrow."

Draco nodded, giving a forced smile. "Ok. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course. You're not getting rid of me that easy, Malfoy," she said with a smirk.

"Wouldn't dream of it Granger," he smiled back. With one last lingering kiss he walked her to the door.

Hermione flashed him a brilliant smile, then disapparted. A moment later she was back at her flat with a goofy grin adorning her lips.

"There you are!"

Hermione jumped, spinning around, instinctively going for her wand. She relaxed when her eyes met a familiar bright red shock of hair. "Ginny!" She breathed. "You scared the life out of me!"

"Sorry," Ginny said sheepishly. "Tea? Hope you don't mind I dipped into your stash."

"No, of course not," Hermione answered, running over to envelope her friend in a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," the redhead grinned. "I just got in at about 7:00 and thought I would pop over to see you, but you weren't here. I checked the bookstore too, but that Oliver bloke said you weren't supposed to be in today. So, I came back here and figured I would wait. The boys and I wanted to make sure you weren't too worried that their training was running long, but-" she looked at the shirt that her friend was wearing, "clearly you have been otherwise occupied."

Hermione looked down at Draco's borrowed shirt. "It's not like that," she said, feeling the blush creeping up her face. "And besides, don't the guys have a week left of training?"

Ginny plopped down on the couch with the tea. ""Mione, they are already two weeks behind what was estimated. I came back so you wouldn't worry. And to be honest it was getting a bit boring on my end."

"Not a fan of the other Auror's wives?" Hermione asked.

"Forget that!" Ginny waved away the question impatiently. "Spill it!"

"Spill what?' The brunette said, feigning innocence.

"Oh come on Hermione! You don't even notice we are two weeks late, you come home at 11:00 wearing a guys t-shirt? Who's the lucky guy?"

"Well," Hermione said carefully. "If you must know, it's Malfoy."

Ginny nearly choked on her tea. "Malfoy?"

Hermione nodded.

"As in Draco Malfoy?"

She nodded again.

"As in the bain of your existence the entire time at Hogwarts Malfoy?"

"Yes Ginny," Hermione said warily.

"So, is he as good in bed as they say he is?" Ginny grinned.

"Ginny!" Hermione said, aghast.

"What? That was the rumor I heard. Slytherin Prince, sex god," she shrugged. "So is he?"

"No! I mean I don't know! We only really just got together," Hermione stammered.

"What about the kissing? Is the kissing good?" The redhead persisted.

"Merlin yes," Hermione answered before she could stop herself.

Ginny giggled. "I knew it!"

"Wait, so I tell you I just started dating Draco Malfoy, and the first thing think of to ask is about the kissing? No lectures? No have you gone mads? Nothing?"

Ginny shrugged once again. "War changes people. Harry told me about what happened that night in the astronomy tower. He never wanted to be a Death Eater. And really, if he were the same prejudiced prat he was in school you wouldn't be with him. Plus, from what I remember he was smart, which is right up your alley. So nope. No lectures. I trust your judgment."

Hermione sat in stunned silence. "Thank you."

Ginny smiled. "I bet this is a really good story."

Hermione yawned. "It is. And long. Can I fill you in another time? It has been a really long few days at the store, and I am exhausted. I just want to collapse for the few hours I have left before I have to go back in."

"Sure," Ginny said standing up. "I am completely knackered myself. It has been a long month. We have a lot to catch up on it seems. Maybe we can tomorrow?"

Hermione shook her head. "Can't tomorrow, I already told Draco I would be over."

"Well, wouldn't want to disappoint _Draco,_ " Ginny teased. "Just owl me when you get a chance. And no rush. I have a bit of an Auror training hangover and could use some peace and quiet. It was crazy in that facility!"

"Sure, Gin. I will talk to you soon, yeah?"

"For sure," she answered, getting up to use the Floo.

"Hey Gin?" Hermione called just as she stepped into the fireplace. "Did they really call him a sex god?"

Ginny smiled. "Sure did. Sweet dreams "Mione," she said with a wink.


End file.
